


Life Eternal

by Alecto



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Ending, Curses, Drama, Future Fic, M/M, Mystery, Original Character(s), Post - Order of the Phoenix, Pre-Slash, Supernatural - Freeform, Vampires, post—hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-10
Updated: 2011-01-18
Packaged: 2017-10-14 09:46:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 78,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/147947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alecto/pseuds/Alecto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It will prove to be an interesting summer for Severus Snape with murder, intrigue, Dark creatures, a wedding in planning, meddlesome family and employers, and the last of Voldemort's lingering shadow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hunting the Moon

Harry loaded the clip of silver bullets into his pistol. He cocked the hammer and reached for his wand in his holster. The full moon freed herself from the dark veil of clouds. Her silver rays fell upon the bare patch of dead leaves in the middle of the forest. He began to wonder if he should have chosen someone else besides himself to act as bait. Then again, he doubted that any of the villagers would have been willing to volunteer anyway.

He had chased the werewolf here- to the very place where six villagers had been found dead and marred to date. Harry definitely wasn't looking to be lucky number seven. He circled around the area, ankle deep in past years' dead leaves. His eyes were trained on the surrounding bushes and trees. He didn't dare mutter a _Lumos_ at a moment like this.

Harry heard a rustle to his left as he pushed a few bangs of silver blond hair out of his eyes. He shifted his weight about. He heard a rustle to his right. He cursed silently at his own foolhardiness under his breath. He was surrounded. He had chosen an infinitely bad spot to confront the creature but there was no other way to draw it out. "Just come out! There's no use in hiding!"

A howl echoed through the woods. It was a morbid response to his challenge. Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck stand. There- he felt the presence of the monster in the bushes behind him. He whipped around and fired three bullets into the shrubbery without hesitation. A wounded cry filled the air.

Harry almost didn't step out of the way in time when a dark shape shot out of the said bush and charged at him. The werewolf was a sight that would have many a wizard freeze. It bared its razor sharp teeth and salivating jaws at Harry- indicating it very well had chosen him to be its next meal. This wasn't the first time Harry had faced a werewolf. However, the experience he had with Remus' terrifying transformation in his Third Year was tame in comparison.

" _Diffindo_."

The wolf howled again in pain as he sprouted a cut on its left hind leg. Harry did not waste his time. Keeping his distance, he launched a variety of cutting spells to slow down the monster. He worked it to the point of exhaustion, coupled with parallel pains inflicted on the wolf's body. The werewolf collapsed to the ground. Its chest heaved a slight bit less with every breath taken.

Harry moved to stand over the creature. It continued to snarl and snap at him but could do nothing more. It was no longer of any harm to anyone. The werewolf would die on its own if left alone for another few hours. It would die the instant the sun rose. The human body simply could not deal with this level of injury. However, it would be cruel of him to leave the creature to suffer so and Harry Potter was anything but cruel.

He raised his handgun and aimed between the wolf's eyes. He ignored the image of Remus, as Harry last saw him on the battlefield bloodied and fatally injured, that surfaced. He pulled the trigger without any remorse and buried a silver bullet in the wolf's skull.

The moment the wolf's life ended, he felt a shiver run down his spine. He stood there and took a deep breath and allowed the experience to wash over him. Merlin, he hated that no matter how many times it happened. There was no helping it though.

Harry worked quickly to gather leaves and firewood to place over and around the corpse. He drew a ward circle around the funeral pyre so not to cause an unwarranted forest fire. There would be no return to human features in the light of day. It had died a wolf and would remain so. No family would have the chance to reclaim this corpse. He lit it with an _Incendio_ spell and fanned the flames to the height that he figured would keep burning until sunrise.

His next job would be a welcome change from this.


	2. Holiday

Severus Snape muttered a few choice words under his breath- it was a melodious blend of English and French. Albus had placed him on a mandatory leave of absence. He had no doubt that Siobhan had a hand in Albus' good work. The dratted wench must have insisted that she needed his help to make the move from France back to England. Of course she must have. Otherwise, Albus wouldn't have given him this long list of tasks she wanted him to accomplish before she arrived there with the children later in the week.

Truth be told, he had not been looking forward to the move back to his ancestral home, but Siobhan had insisted. She had spent almost three hours lecturing him on the advantages of reclaiming that cursed old castle. It was her decision alone. She was the one with full legal ownership of that cursed place. No, she didn't mind all the work and the ridiculous amount of money needed to restore the place to a livable state after almost twenty long years of neglect.

Not that Severus was planning on investing much into the effort. The family "fortune" had long dried up thanks to his father and though his teaching salary sufficed for his present lifestyle, it was not luxurious- some of the ingredients he needed would literally cost an arm and a leg if the merchants could. Thus Siobhan would be the one funneling money from her accounts to the renovation effort. The château was getting far too small, she claimed. The children were all grown up and were going to get married. They would need the room for the grandchildren that she so wanted.

He continued to curse women's whim. France was good. Their château in the south of France was warm and sunny. It was a nice change of environment considering he spent about ten mouths out of a year in Scotland. France was full of friendly and enthusiastic people, and didn't carry the ghosts of his wretched childhood and memories of his heinous sins.

"Severus."

Severus looked up and was met with the sight of Draco Malfoy- the current Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. The younger man offered him an encouraging smile. His grin only widened when he spotted the roll of parchment clenched tightly in his old professor's hand. "I see Siobhan has dug her claws into you." he chuckled.

Severus' scowl deepened. "Don't you have class to teach, Draco?"

The imp dared to broaden his smile even further. He pulled a roll of parchment from his robes and unrolled it. It must have been at least two feet long. "She has me running around England and helping with all the wedding arrangements on the weekends. I must say that Siobhan is quite persuasive."

"She and Albus share the same type of conniving and scheming mind." He brushed by Draco and continued on his way to his office.

Draco followed at his side. "What a wicked thing to say about my future-mother-in-law."

"Then I would suggest that you make an honest woman of Shavonne soon. Besides, you know it's true. Those two are unstoppable together."

Draco chuckled. "Of course. They're the only two people in this world who have power over you."

Severus shot Draco a dark glare. "Scat, boy. I have a great deal of packing to do if I'm to leave this afternoon."

As Severus continued down the hall, he heard the unmistakable sound imitating a whip. He turned, wondering what would be more effective- an Unforgivable or one of the far more creative curses he had learned in his youth. Better yet, put the boy out of his misery, but Draco was already gone. He admitted the boy was at least smart enough to run while he had the chance. The only comfort he had was the fact that Shavonne was every bit her mother, no matter how coy she tried to act. Draco would have his hands full. He smirked.

...

Around four o'clock, after his last class of the day, he left the castle in the direction of Hogsmeade. That was only after he thoroughly went over his instructions personally with Hermione Granger. He supposed she would be an adequate substitute in his absence. It was disconcerting to see the girl at times- no, she was a young woman now. Just as Draco was now a young man. He found it hard to think of them as anything remotely close to being children. She was one of those people who reminded the world exactly what the war had cost them. Granger had lost both her best friend and fiancé in the last battle. She was a heart-broken young woman and there was no doubt that she would never be the same as she was before the war.

He Apparated to the home of the Snapes in the Yorkshire countryside just short of the walkway up to the castle from just outside the Hogwarts wards. The village of Snape was a quiet village of less than 400. It was an unusually dreary day. A thunder storm had fallen upon this Moppy little village. There was not a single soul on the road. It was fitting for his mood though. A bitter smile crept across his thin lips. He was "home" again.

He had Apparated to the west of the village, approaching it along the Avenue of lemon trees. The lemons would be in season for the better part of spring and summer. The castle, built sometime in the early 15th century, loomed in the distance. It wasn't an overwhelming fortress. It was nowhere in the magnitude of Hogwarts. Snape Castle had begun as Snape Manor and subsequent generations had added to the architecture. It was just as he remembered it.

The Snape lineage had its origins among the Normans before they settled in Britain in the eleventh century. They were pureblood in as far back as the family could be traced in England. It is believed that the reason at least one Squib is born each generation in his family is that they had not been so pure of blood before coming to Britain. His line had long found ways to compensate for their non-magical children. In the past, the Snapes had been very active in the Muggle politics. They were one of the few wizarding families, if not the only, to hold a noble title and land from the Muggle English Crown. His twice widowed distant great aunt, Catherine Parr, had married Henry the VIII back in the 16th century. However, the practice of participating in Muggle politics had ended with his great-great-grandsire, who bought into the pureblood sentiments that had become so popular at the time.

Severus shook his head. Now was not the time to be reminiscing about his family history- his trice damned lineage with presently worthless titles- titles that he could only pass on to Sinclair. In another fifteen minutes, he had crossed the courtyard and was standing in the entrance hall. The door recognized him but was reluctant to give him admittance. He had to threaten to turn it into firewood before it would grant him entrance. So here he was, standing in the bare foyer.

A slight pop signaled the arrival of the only house elf in staff that Siobhan had arrive early from the château. The creature stared at Severus' disheveled state before breaking into a wide idiotic grin. "Master Severus sir, you've come back! Moppy is so happy to see you sir! Moppy will get towel for Master Severus sir!"

Before Severus could stop the blundering creature, it vanished. He could fix himself well enough with a spell. He stared down at the pathetic state of his robes. He considered not changing out of them at all. Illness might be the key to getting out of this house cleaning nonsense. No. It would not be worth the long lecture Siobhan would give him.

He climbed up the long staircase to where his bedchamber, which was at the far end of the west wing. The household was sorely understaffed for a house this size but Moppy had been able to clean most of the bedchambers, the kitchen, the entrance hall, and the main sitting room in the week it had been here. It was a shame house elf magic did so little to combat household pests or any of the darker creatures that tended to take up residence in old abandoned castles.

He stopped in front of the dark door of his chamber from childhood. The serpents on the faded cherry wood panels hissed at him in welcomed return. He felt a faint smile tug at the corner of his lips. Perhaps it would not be as dreadful as he'd first anticipated. Unlike the front door, this one offered no resistance.

The room was dark as expected. A distant flash of lightning from the storm revealed a slight shadow by his window and Severus became acutely aware of the other presence in his room. He drew his wand and the intruder began moving toward him.

" _Stu-_ "

Severus was faster though. " _Expelliarmus_!" and the intruder's wand flew into his awaiting hand despite the darkness. "Halt."

The trespasser did not listen, but simply rammed into him. They tumbled to the floor and wrestled about. Severus' opponent was stronger and most likely younger, but with a burst of strength, he rolled over and pinned his opponent to the floor. He knew it was a compromising position with one leg inserted between the other man's legs. Sometime in the midst of their conflict, both their wands had escaped them and rolled away to the side.

" _Lumos_."

Light flooded the room and the fireplace sprang to life. Severus could finally see the face of his assailant. The man beneath him froze. Severus could see something- veiled recognition?- in the intruder's eyes and then the fear that replaced it.

Severus almost mistook the man for Draco. The two had the same silver blond hair but that was where all resemblance ended. While Draco had a delicate beauty about him as a result of centuries of careful "breeding," this man had a rugged masculinity about his features. His dark gray eyes (almost black like his own, Severus realized) brought back unpleasant memories of Severus' school years.

The young man beneath Severus squirmed slightly but Severus leaned in and restricted any further movement. "Who are you and what are you doing in my rooms?"

The man didn't offer an answer. He simply stared up at Severus. They stayed like that for a few moments and Severus began to wonder if the other man was entirely there.

A pop was heard and Moppy appeared next to them. "There you be Master Severus," it dropped the towel when it saw the two men. "Master Severus, that be Master Cedric! He is exterminator Mistress Jessica summoned!"

Severus blinked. Of course, this was the man they had hired to help clear the castle of dark creatures- the exterminator that had expelled the unregistered poltergeist from Jessica's home in the Americas. Exterminator this man may be, but he still had not reason to be in Severus' room.

Severus stood. He didn't offer a hand to help the man up. Severus could clearly see that this man was barely older than Sinclair.

Cedric, as Moppy had addressed him, climbed slowly to his feet. Severus noticed that the other man was looking everywhere but at him.

Severus took the towel the elf offered and dried his wet hair. He focused an intense glare on this "Cedric." Moppy was watching them both with a very wary expression. "I will repeat myself only once and I expect answer. What are you doing in my chamber? How did you get in here?"

Cedric straightened his posture and brushed his robes off. His eyes responded with a defiance that reminded Severus of impudent schoolboys. Cedric flung a hand forward and called, " _Accio_ wands."

Severus narrowed his eyes. Wandless magic took an incredible amount of power and concentration, and this brat was showing off like it was nothing more than a simple parlor trick. It was a challenge of sorts. Severus smirked. The brat was trying to intimidate him.

He watched as Cedric snatched both of their wands from mid-air. Cedric offered him his wand and Severus snarled as he took it back. Cedric didn't appear to waver under Severus' unrelenting gaze. He simply stood there as they stared at each other.

"The door was open. I was just curious." Cedric stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"That's impossible. The doors would never let a stranger in." Severus hissed. He stalked up to the younger man and attempted to tower over him, but found that he wasn't much taller than Cedric. The maneuver was not as effective as he'd hoped.

Cedric shrugged. "It's been twenty years. Maybe the charms and wards are beginning to wear off." The man's tone was downright provocative.

"Very well," Severus gritted his teeth. "I encourage you not to enter my chambers without my explicit permission in the future." He turned away in what he knew to be a dramatic swirl of black robes.

"Cedric Remius Wesley."

"Pardon?"

"My name. Aren't you going to introduce yourself, Mister Snape? After all, it's the polite thing to do."

"I see no need to. Wesley, you'll find that I am anything but a polite man in due time."

"Seems obvious enough from the start."

Severus still heard those last lowly murmured words. He pointed to the door. "There's the exit. I trust you can find your way out just as you've found your way in." He refused to look at the brat again.

"Of course, Professor," was the soft reply Severus received in return. He couldn't help but think that the words sounded as familiar as the creak of his chamber doors closing.

"Master Severus sir?"

"I'm fine, Moppy. You may cease gawking at me with those disgustingly wide eyes." Severus snapped.

The elf appeared properly chagrined, but Severus admitted that his displeasure was by no fault of the creature's. House elves were fiercely protective creatures. He knew Moppy must have warned Wesley that certain rooms were off-limit. It was only the young man's lack of discretion that placed him at odds with Severus.

"Moppy, see to it that Mister Wesley adjourns to the appropriate room this time around."

The elf bowed and vanished with another soft pop. Severus pinched the bridge of his prodigious nose. He did not want this Cedric Remius Wesley invading his home and turning it roundabout- dark creatures or not.

...

Harry James Potter, better now known as Cedric Remius Wesley, raced down the hall to his temporary quarters. He kept glancing back over his shoulders- half-expecting Snape to swoop down on him like a great bat and ship him back to Dumbledore, Hogwarts, and the rest.

Harry threw open the doors of his chamber and quickly slammed them behind him again. He stumbled into the bathroom and planted himself in front of the mirror over the sink. His knuckles turned white as he clutched the porcelain sink and stared long and hard at his reflection.

Snape couldn't possibly recognize him as a former student- much less Harry Potter. Harry had put his disguise together very carefully. He had only dyed his hair the night before so he wouldn't have to repeat the process for another few weeks. His contacts were in place. His scar was hidden under layers of Muggle make-up reinforced with anti-smudging and waterproof charms.

This was all a mistake. This was all one big horrible mistake. An inner voice- one that sounded much like Snape to Harry's disgust- chided him for not checking into the background of his clients as he usually did. He had simply taken the job when Jessica Powell sent him the request to help clear out a castle in the town of Snape that had not been lived in for over twenty years because he had worked for her before and found her to be a generally amiable person. When she sent him the initial offer, it seemed too good to be true. He had been offered a generous sum of galleon for his services along with room and board. He thought the name village name, Snape, to be a mere coincidence- that his old teacher had been named after the village and not the other way around.

Harry turned on the tap for cold and splashed water on his face. He had to calm down. If he didn't, he risked blowing his cover. It had been foolhardy of him to perform wandless magic in front of Snape. After seven years of the older man looking down on him, he just felt he had to show his old teacher one up. It was a good thing that "Harry Potter" did not know wandless magic.

He dragged himself out of the bathroom and onto the old sofa in front of the unlit fireplace. He looked around. The room was painfully bare. The walls were empty of any paintings one might expect to see in a castle such as this and there wasn't even a chest of drawers leaning against the wall. Harry's trunk sat at the foot of his bed covered with faded sheets and blankets. The whole castle gave off a desolate, abandoned feeling. All that was missing was the layers of dust but Harry assumed that the house elf had gotten to that already.

Harry closed his eyes but found no peace. He felt them, thousands of lives teeming within the castle walls and grounds. Most were slightly dark. The curse tugged at him. It wasn't necessary to his survival to satiate that hunger but Harry found it made his life more bearable. Yet that curse could never be fully sated, it always craved more and more. Here in this castle, there were just thousands of lives calling to the darkness within Harry. Reaching out further, Harry could feel the presence of Snape just down the corridor.

He found his thoughts wandering back to Snape again. It surprised him how little his old professor had changed. The bastard was still as unwelcoming and as harsh as he had ever been but Snape did seem to clean up a bit though. His hair, though stringy, was less greasy. His teeth were less yellow. It also seemed as if Snape had actually gotten a few hours of sunlight for the first time in his life. The man was still no better looking than he had been years ago but it was an improvement. He supposed that Snape had more time to worry about hygiene now that Voldemort was gone.

Harry jumped to his feet and set out to find out more about this castle and his old teacher. He didn't have to go far since a house elf popped in to check on him.

"Master Cedric find everything to be good?"

Harry nodded. "You are?"

"Moppy, sir."

Harry smothered the laughter in his throat. He thought it best not to insult the elf when he wanted information about Snape.

"Can you tell me about Snape?"

The elf stared at him blankly. "You mean Master Severus, Mistress Siobhan, Master Sinclair, or Mistress Shavonne?"

It was Harry's turn to be confused. "There's more than one of them?" His question sounded stupid even to his own ears.

"Master Severus and Mistress Siobhan are the masters of the castle. They are Moppy's masters."

Harry's head whirled at the implications of the statement. He had to be sure before he jumped to any conclusions.

"Siobhan is Severus' sister?" It felt strange to address his former teacher by his given name.

The elf quirked its head in confusion. "Master Severus have no siblings."

Snape was married! Who knew? He remembered how he and his fellow Gryffindors had speculated about Snape's love life or lack thereof many nights in the Common Room. It seemed they were all wrong. No one had ever dared to consider the possibility of Snape already being married.

"And Sinclair and Shavonne are?"

"Mistress Siobhan's children."

And Snape had kids… Hell must have frozen over.

...

Severus accepted the glass of port that appeared at his side and leaned back in his seat. He watched as Wesley picked at his food. The other man shifted uneasily under Severus' gaze. Severus could cut the tension in the air if he cared to. He took a sip and scowled at the glass.

"So, what are we going to do first?"

Severus placed his glass down and rested his chin against his propped up folded hands. "We'll be starting in the lower levels with the dungeons and such. Siobhan insists I clear out the dungeon and lab areas before she arrives. Hopefully, we'll work out way up to one of the towers by next month's end."

Wesley nodded and seemed to insist upon some type of dinner pleasantry. "Uhhh…you're a teacher, right?"

"Yes." Severus snorted and would offer no further information.

"School isn't over for another few weeks."

Severus could hardly maintain the barely civil tone of this conversation. "The esteemed headmaster was possessed of the notion that I was in dire need of a sabbatical. It would appear that it was such an emergency, he had to place me on a leave of absence just two weeks before my Seventh Years take their N.E.W.T.s."

Severus watched as Wesley chuckled. It was interesting to watch the amusement play across the man's face. He wasn't really sure why he was entertaining Wesley's questions.

Wesley pressed on. "Tell me about where you teach. What's the Headmaster like? I've always heard such great stories about him."

Severus snorted again. "Albus Dumbledore is a menace to society. He may be one of the greatest wizards of all time but he is nothing more than a meddling old coot. Hope to the heavens he never corners you to have tea with him."

"Will he be visiting?"

"I do believe so." Severus was curious if not a bit terrified at the sudden grin that overtook Wesley's face. "I'm sure he and Siobhan have taken tea together to conspire about how to make my life all the more unbearable."

"But you care for them anyway." Wesley teased.

Severus considered the other's man statement for a few moments. He pushed back the chair away from the dining table and rose to his feet. Without so much as another word, he strode over to the exit. He stopped just as his hand rested on the handle. "Yes." he breathed very softly, but he knew the other man heard him.

...

Harry was still having trouble adjusting to the fact that Snape had a family. Snape had spoken of his wife with veiled fondness. He couldn't imagine what kind of woman would tolerate Snape's less than kindly attitude. It would have to be a woman of very strong convictions and one that could take more than a few verbal hits. Snape had children too. Harry hated to think about how those kids turned out- most likely emotionally traumatized for life.

Harry draped himself over the sofa and stared up at the stars. It felt sort of good to reminisce about people he knew from his far-off childhood. Part of him desperately wanted Dumbledore to visit so Harry could see the elderly wizard again. He wondered if Dumbledore knew where he had been for the last few years. The Ministry had promised to keep his secrets but his old headmaster could be very persuasive when he wanted to be. He wondered if Dumbledore would know he was Harry Potter if he saw Harry now.

He rolled over onto his side and sighed. He found himself wondering about Hermione now. He felt so guilty for abandoning her so soon after the final battle- so soon after Ron's death. He couldn't stay. It was too dangerous for them if he stayed. Voldemort had found his everlasting victory within Harry.

Darkness bred darkness. That was the most dangerous concept of all and he drew things of the darkest nature toward him.

Harry's eyelids drooped. It had been a long day and wrestling Snape had not helped. He drifted off on his spot on the sofa. He couldn't summon the energy to drag himself across the room and into the bed. He never noticed the winged shadow that settled outside his window with its gleaming crimson eyes.


	3. Snape

Severus awoke abruptly in bed. It was as if someone had dumped an entire bucket of water over him. He didn't need to look over at the clock on his mantle to know it was seven in the morning. He had taken four drops of his sleeping draught the night before and received his prescribed eight hours of uninterrupted rest.

His robes were laid out on the foot of his bed. He looked around the bare room. The original furnishings of the room and of the rest of the castle had been sold years ago when Severus first moved out of this wretched place to pay off his father's remaining debt. Most of his belongings were still at Hogwarts since he lived there ten months out of the year. Siobhan had already arranged to move the scant belongings he kept at the château.

As he sat up in his bed, he noticed the envelope lying on top of his robes. He summoned the letter to him. On the front, _Severus_ was written in a crisp, smooth script that he recognized immediately as Siobhan's. He broke the wax seal featuring Siobhan's heraldry- a pair of scissors- and unfolded the letter. She had owled him to inform him that Sinclair would be arriving toward the end of the week to pick up Jessica from Heathrow airport and that Severus was expected to greet the young woman and welcome her into their home.

He scowled and untangled himself from his sheets to move over to the hearth where there were only dying embers. With a whispered spell, the flames leaped to life and he fed his post to it. Wonderful, he was expected to endure the Muggle monstrosity that was known as an airport.

He grabbed his wand resting next to his pillow and waved it.

Moppy appeared. "Master Severus?"

"Tell Wesley to come down to the dungeons after breakfast."

The house elf nodded and popped out of the room again.

Wesley was here to work and Severus would bloody well make use of him. No point in letting Siobhan wastes her galleons senselessly. He only hoped the young man was as competent as Jessica claimed.

...

Harry slowly descended the dungeon stairway that Moppy had pointed out to him. He laid a hand against the damp stone walls and cursed the narrow stairwells as he tried to make his way down the stairs. Harry swore again as his foot almost slipped off the next wet step below. He was going to break his neck before he even faced the numerous pests this castle housed. For the first time ever, he found himself appreciating Hogwarts' dungeons in comparison.

At least all the torches mounted on the wall were lit. When he finally reached the corridor at the bottom, he thanked whatever god had seen him down that flight of stairs. He looked up and down the hall. Which way had Snape gone?

He took a moment to observe his surroundings. This was nothing like the dungeons at Hogwarts, which felt at least vaguely habitable. He was already wondering what sort of creatures lived down here. He quickly set a detection spell and started down the hallway.

Only a few meters along, the spell began to alert him to something. He whirled around and took up a defensive stance. Harry heard a strange screech echo down the hallway. There was the slight flutter of multiple wings and a swarm of bats suddenly descended on him.

He felt their furry little bodies brush against him everywhere and tried to suppress the curse and put it back to sleep. Something sharp nipped against his neck, his cheek, and then, his temple. He swatted at them. He would not murder them in cold blood… They backed off and regrouped to swarm him again.

Harry stuck his wand in the air, squeezed his eyes shut, and screamed, " _Lumos Solarum_."

An answering scream from the bats nearly destroyed his hearing. They finally retreated and flew back in the direction from which they came. Harry dropped to his knee. He felt something wet trickle down the side of his face and neck, and he touched the side of his chin gently to find it stained with blood.

Harry looked up when he heard the rush of footsteps echo down the stone corridor. Snape approached with his wand drawn.

"What happened, Wesley?" Snape barked as he knelt down by Harry.

"Bats," Harry gasped as he struggled to regain control over himself. So many lives swarming around him… With the right spell, he could have ended all of them and Snape's surprisingly warm presence by his side made it all the harder. He could just reach out and extinguish the flame that was Snape's life if he wanted.

He knew that Snape was entirely unaware of his dilemma. Harry had never had such a loss of control around another human being before. His hand moved on its own but it never reached above his hip before Snape stood and moved out of Harry's reach. He could finally breathe again and inhaled deeply.

"These are the dungeons, Wesley. The castle has been left to rot for the better part of the last twenty years. Of course, a few bats will have taken up residence here. It still fails to explain your…" Snape looked him up and down in disdain, "Wounds. Surely an experienced exterminator such as yourself can handle a few non-magical pests?"

Harry rose to his feet, clenching his fists. He still wanted to kill Snape but not for the same reasons as before. "They were vampire bats. Vampire bats are native to Central and South America. You tell me what the bloody hell they would be doing in a castle in North Yorkshire."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "I see you are quite the zoologist as well, Wesley. Vampire bats also ingest no more than twenty milliliters of blood a night, so forgive me if I fail to hold my breath in anticipation of your turning up as a withered corpse."

Harry gritted his teeth. Snape would always be an unmitigated bastard. He should have known better. "Bloody freaky castle," he mumbled under his breath.

"What are you waiting for, Wesley? The second coming of Merlin, perhaps? Heal those wounds. There's work to be done. I refuse to listen to any more of Siobhan's prattling." Snape had already turned his back, his robes sweeping around him in the same manner Harry remembered from his school days.

Harry stared down at his hands and whispered. "I can't."

Snape whirled around. "Pardon?"

Harry glared up at Snape. This was a familiar sort of scene. "I said I can't. I can't do healing spells."

Snape stared at him like he was dim-witted. "The incantation for a simple healing spell is hardly a challenge even for someone with your backwater education."

"I don't believe you understand, _Professor_ ," Harry gritted out the man's title against his teeth. "I am _incapable_ of certain types of magic, with mediwitchery being one of them. And I didn't have a 'backwater' education as you so nicely put it, I attended-" Harry stopped himself before he said the word "Hogwarts."

Snape looked at him dubiously before raising his wand and muttering the incantation. Harry winced slightly as he felt the wounds close and the skin knit back together. Just another disadvantage of being Harry Potter.

"Let us proceed, Wesley. We have quite the task before us."

Harry couldn't agree more. Spending this much close and personal time alone with Snape was going to push him to his limit.

...

Harry made his way down to the village after lunch. It was nice to know he wasn't confined to the deserted castle grounds alone. He would probably go mad if he had only Snape to face for who knows how long. It would be safer for everyone but Harry would go mad nonetheless.

Harry breathed in deeply of the clean air. It was a beautiful day. It would be a pity to waste it locked up in a dungeon brewing potions. Too bad for Snape. Snape had already locked himself in his potions lab to brew whatever toxic solutions they would need to take care of the lesser pests. It wasn't like he had expected Snape to entertain him. He wasn't that dense.

He was grateful. He rarely got to spend time in such a warm and sunny environment. He had spent the last few months in the darker, sunless landscapes that seemed to compose the majority of the rural areas of Eastern Europe. This whole job was a welcome change- even if it meant dealing with Snape for a while.

He took his time taking in his surroundings. The majority of the village was notably Muggle. Snape had warned him against using magic in public for other than life or death dilemmas and mumbled irately about some fine from the Ministry. He walked away from the avenue of lemon trees to the road leading away from the castle and into the village. Children were playing on the side of the wide road and they seemed to be playing a game testing each child's courage to see how near each would go to the old castle. Harry shook his head. They really have nothing to fear, even if it was Severus Snape.

The Avenue led straight into the paved Back Street where Harry began to see more of the villagers and buildings. Snape Castle was on the west side of the village and was relatively isolated from everything else. Down the length of Back Street, he passed by six trees planted in a row and another cluster of four more lemon trees. The buildings were mostly preserved in the same architectural state of when they were first built, which Harry guessed was anything between the fifteenth and nineteenth centuries. That was the strange thing about England- how the modern amenities were able to co-exist with their traditional counterparts.

The village of Snape was an awfully scenic one. He couldn't think of any other word to describe the village but "quaint." He would never have imagined that Snape grew up in such a… _nice_ village. He stopped at a red light on the street corner where several cars passed. A fellow pedestrian nodded politely to him before crossing and turning left.

Harry hit a fork in the road not too far after the four lemon trees and heard the sound of running water. The passing cars didn't drown out the sound. He followed behind a small family of four going in what seemed to be the direction of the sound. It was a small river running almost parallel to Back Street and a bridge laid over the river and its slopping banks. A sign proclaimed it to be Marina Bridge. He leaned against the railing of the bridge to peer into the running water below and swore he saw the bare hints of flashing scales and a fish tail breaking the reflective surface.

The bridge was quiet. A couple of girls with their arms intertwined with those Harry assumed to be their boyfriends gave him a pitying yet appraising look. Their stares began to make him uncomfortable. Perhaps he had discovered the meeting place for lovers. If so, he must look really pathetic standing there on his own. He turned and walked back down the bridge to continue his explorations.

A smoky voice interrupted Harry's reverie and confirmed his suspicions. "What young lady would be daft enough to stand up a fine male specimen as yourself?"

Harry couldn't help the heat that overtook his cheeks. It had been far too long since he had had anyone tease him in such a manner. "I'm not. Waiting for anyone, that is."

"Which only leads me to question the taste of the fair ladies of Snape."

He looked to the right where the voice had come from. A man stood in the tree's shade by the side of the stream. He leaned back against the trunk and was observing Harry with a bemused expression. The man offered Harry a rather charming grin. Was this man flirting with him?

Harry recomposed himself and turned fully to face this new man and replied, "I'm not from here."

This new man was probably five or six years older than Harry. He was dressed in a white button-up shirt and a pair of black slacks. Dark hooded eyes watched Harry with veiled amusement and a hint of decadence. The man's raven black hair was cropped close to his ears and it fell about his face in a rather handsome and natural manner. The redness of his full lips stood in stark contrast with the white of his face. There was something inherently cruel to Harry about the curve of those lips. The first thing that stuck Harry as odd was the man's unusual pallor. He was even paler than Snape. Harry hadn't thought that possible. It was as if the older man's skin was woven of moonlight- white and flawless. The next feature to strike Harry as odd- or familiar- was the man's large hooked nose. The stranger emitted an aura that both drew and repelled Harry- a feeling that Harry loved and hated. It was there though- a dark desire churning deep in the well of stomach and mind.

Harry straightened to his full height, which still wasn't all that impressive. "You are?"

"Abraham," the man replied languidly. "May I have your name or shall I just call you Adonis? No, he was too arrogant. Persephone would be a more fitting appellation despite your being male."

Harry was appalled by the man's boldness. Abraham was flirting with him! Harry wasn't sure he knew how to react. He had never been hit on by another man before; the possibility had never even occurred to him. He tried to push away the embarrassment that was definitely there. It would just be rude to ignore the man completely. "Cedric Remius Wesley."

"A pleasure. I believe that Cedric means 'chief.'" Abraham gave him another appraising look.

Harry couldn't help but feel like livestock under the man's heavy gaze. He nodded mutely in response to the older man's statement. The only Cedric he had ever known was Cedric Diggory. "Nice to meet you, Abraham. I should really be getting back to the castle for tea."

Harry froze when Abraham laid a hand on his forearm and prevented him from escaping just yet.

"You should be wary of the Snapes," Abraham's voice lost all its flirtatious edge. "Theirs is a bad blood. Be careful."

Harry tore his arm from Abraham's grip. "Thank you for your concern, Mister Abraham," Harry watched as the amusement returned. "But I can take care of myself."

"There's a story," Abraham promised. "I shall have to tell it the next time we meet. And we will meet again."

Abraham pushed himself from the tree trunk with an elegant flourish and sauntered away. Harry shook his head and began his long walk back to the castle. He would never admit it aloud but the prospect of seeing Abraham again both frightened and excited him.

...

Harry decided he liked Sinclair Snape. He really truly did. There was no way this charming and attractive young man, only a year older than Harry, could be Severus Snape's son. Yet the subtle similarities were still there, found in the man's darker humor and large hooked nose. Sinclair's voice was a nice timbre with the slightest accent. He had definitely inherited Snape's eloquence, at least partially.

Harry was somewhat surprised when Sinclair asked for "Severus" and not "father." When Sinclair learned that Snape was locked away in his labs already, he muttered something about not seeing Snape for another month. Harry broke out into a grin. Sounded like Snape to him. Sinclair then dragged Harry into one of the cleaner furnished drawing rooms so they could get to know each other better.

They talked about a lot of subjects from Quidditch to the British Ministry of Magic, from defensive curses and dueling techniques to Jessica, Sinclair's fiancée, who would be arriving in another few days.

When it was time for tea, a tray appeared on the table between them and Snape finally emerged from his dark dungeons. At first, he and Sinclair had been so caught up in their conversation about England's chance at the World Cup vs. France's that neither of them noticed Snape observing them. A dark feeling tugged at the back of Harry's mind. It was a familiar one and he found his gaze unwillingly wandering from the cup of tea before him to the dark figure lounging in the doorway. Snape was dressed as always, in his overbearing black robes. His hair seemed even stringier and greasier than ever.

Without so much as a greeting, Snape strode into the room and settled into another chair at their table. A putrid smell immediately assaulted Harry's senses. Sinclair nearly jumped out of his seat as he caught the first hint of the odor.

"What the hell were you cooking down there? Dead rats?" Sinclair exclaimed.

Harry was inclined to agree with Sinclair on that.

Snape's scowl only deepened. "My experiment didn't quite turn out the way I had expected."

Sinclair sobered up. "That's the third experimental potion you've blotched in the last two weeks."

Snape poured himself a cup of tea. Harry noticed that his former professor dumped in more than enough sugar and cream. "I received an owl from your mother this morning. I was led to believe I would not have to suffer your presence until later this week."

Sinclair didn't appear to be insulted by his father's comment. Whatever Harry had expected, this was not it. Sinclair simply reached for a wedge of lemon and squeezed it over Snape's tea. "Mère wanted me to keep an eye on you, make sure you didn't scare Cedric, here, away. Besides, I figured you would rather be using this time to get that experimental batch of Wolfsbane done with the full moon at the end of the month."

Harry nearly choked on his biscuit at the mention of the Wolfsbane potion. Sinclair and Snape looked at him oddly and he excused himself from the room quickly.

It hurt to be reminded of Remus. He had failed Remus. He had failed Remus the same way he had failed Ron. Last he'd heard, Remus was lying in some bed St. Mungo's with no hope of recovery. According to the mediwitches, the werewolf would be dead in hours. Harry had left England soon after the last battle. He didn't even stay long enough to attend either Ron's or Remus' funerals.

...

"Did I say something wrong?" Sinclair frowned.

Severus snorted and sipped his tea. "Wesley's simply a strange one."

"But he's good at what he does," Sinclair quipped.

"Let us hope so." Severus scoffed. He still did not see the benefit of hiring this exterminator. Siobhan insisted. Jessica insisted. It was not as if Severus could not handle whatever they may come across. However, Siobhan had a point when she reminded him that he desperately needed to focus on Lupin's new Wolfsbane.

"Do you at least have some of the regular ready for Remus? It doesn't look like you'll finish a stable enough experimental variation in time."

Severus only threw Sinclair a glare across the table. "Don't tell me how to do my job, Sinclair. You couldn't brew a Pepper-Up potion properly if your life depended on it."

"Oui, Père." Sinclair snickered.

Severus glared at the younger man, but Sinclair was long immune to his death glares.

...

It was Harry and Sinclair who worked through much of the lower levels that week. Harry, fortunately, had no more encounters with bloodthirsty bats but they did find a few Red Caps in what appeared to have once been a torture chamber. Harry wasn't sure he really wanted to know, so he didn't ask. Snape left them to their own devices and continued to work on his potions. Harry felt inclined to let him to do so.

On Friday, Sinclair and Snape left for London to pick up Jessica and Harry found himself with a free day. Harry suspected they would not return until later that night with the way Sinclair went on and on about the shopping to be done and the wedding arrangements to be made. Snape had looked positively murderous at the prospect of being dragged through Muggle London and Diagon Alley. Harry feared Sinclair might not live to see his wedding at that rate.

He took this opportunity to spend some time in the library. It was strange because a majority of the shelves were empty. At the forefront of the library, Harry found the more mundane books dealing in the subjects of history and old book-keepings written up by past staffs and stewards. Then he found the Muggle literature section. He found the wizarding books all the way to the back of the library. It was a smaller collection than he had anticipated but it was a gem. Harry even found the first edition of _A Treatise on Proper Dueling_ published in 1645 with its infamous misprint of the incantation for the bloodletting curse. Most of the books bordered on dark and wavered on the line of legality. With a library as old and extensive as this one, it was no wonder that Snape had known as many curses as he had during his school years.

Harry looked up from his book some time later and saw it was half past four. He went down to explore the village again. He didn't go back to the bridge he'd been to earlier that week. Harry had managed to forget about Abraham for the most part. He simply thought it best to avoid the bridge so he wouldn't have to see the man again.

The people were friendly for the most part and they generally greeted him with a smile before going back to their business. It seemed that this village was used to a decent amount of tourists. One elderly woman asked if he was staying at the Castle Arms Inn 1. When he told her he wasn't, she still recommended the restaurant at the inn and the Hambleton Ale brewed locally that he could try there.

He took the woman's advice and dined at the Castle Arms Inn. The food had that home-cooked taste and it was delicious. It was certainly a change from what he had been eating the last few months. It was good to taste the food of his homeland again. When Harry stepped into the pub connected to the restaurant later that evening, the level of noise threw him off. It wasn't absurdly loud but there were more people there than he had originally expected.

The pub was cozy. A group of younger men around his age hung around the bar while the older men sat around the tables. All the way to the side of the room was the fireplace. It was not lit since it was well into the summer. The occupants of the pub only gave him quick curious glances before turning back to their companions.

Harry ordered ale at the counter and went through the usual introductions with the bartender. The bartender was curious as to why he was staying in the castle. Harry thought it best to best to stick with the truth and explained that he had been hired to help make the castle inhabitable again. The bartender nodded in a gesture of great interest before explaining that everyone in the village was curious about the commotion up at the castle lately. It was abandoned for nearly twenty years now and no one had been sure if it was still under the control of the Snape family. The bartender told Harry about how the castle had almost become deserted after the last Snape went off to boarding school in Scotland. Harry did confirm for the bartender that the Snapes had moved back into the old castle and that it wasn't in as bad a shape as one would think.

The bartender moved away to deal with some of the other patrons but several others approached him about his experience at the castle. Harry was as honest as he could be. He was surprised when several of the older men were able to describe Snape as a child in detail.

One of the men recounted the incident where Snape tried to climb one of the lemon trees by the Avenue but fell and broke his arm. Snape was then confined to the castle grounds for weeks afterwards. Harry suspected that it was to keep the villagers from becoming suspicious if they should see a mended arm. He just sat and listened to the men argue and reminisce around him.

"Strange lad that one."

"Yes. Rather precocious for his age."

"What was his name again? It was rather severe sounding. Septimius, is it?"

"No, no. That was his dad's name."

"Severus," Harry supplied.

"That's it!"

"Didn't he have a sister?"

"Oh no, poor Fiona died giving birth to the lad."

"But there were another lass living with them."

"Oh, wasn't she sent to France for schooling, eh?"

"Never mind, that family was a strange one."

The evening flew by for Harry. He listened avidly as the men gave him long lectures on the history of the village and a bit about the Snape family as well. It was strange that Snape joined the Death Eaters when he had lived among Muggles for so much of his life. Around ten o'clock, Harry said his good-byes.

Harry stretched after he exited the pub. Some of the other patrons left at the same time. They bid him a good night and most of them headed in the direction opposite of where Harry would be going. He turned around to walk back to the castle and nearly ran into someone.

"Bloody hell!" Harry exclaimed as he came face to face with Abraham, who seemed to come out of nowhere. "Don't do that to me!"

Abraham simply chuckled at Harry's indignation and stepped closer to him. Harry wasn't drunk but he was a bit tipsy, so he leaned on Abraham's shoulder for support. Abraham laid a hand on Harry's forearm as the older man led him down the road.

"I'm fine," Harry protested at the treatment.

"I'll just walk you part of the way. You don't look very steady on your feet, Cedric."

Harry resigned himself to accepting Abraham's help. The close contact with the other man made him feel uncomfortable. The same dark emotions as last time resurfaced. Harry shivered and Abraham draped his overcoat over Harry's shoulder. He simply stared down at the road. Harry didn't know how to tell Abraham that he wasn't shivering from the cold but from the proximity of Abraham's presence. He thought it best to say nothing at all in the end.

There was something slightly different about Abraham that night, Harry didn't know what it was but Abraham seemed more vivacious than last time. The moonlight and streetlights accentuated the curve of the older man's voluptuous red lips and smoothed away the slight wrinkles at his temples. Harry caught a glimpse of sharpened teeth peeking out.

They walked together in silence until they reached the spot where the Avenue met Back Street. The castle was just a few hundred feet away and he could see the light shining through some of the windows. To their left was the ruin of the wall that opened up a graveled path framed by shrubbery. It led to a picturesque view of the ruins. Abraham must have noticed where his attention was.

"That's the Kissing Gate. The locals call it Tittlem Corner. It's a favorite haunt for courting couples," Abraham's arm slid around his waist. "May I tempt you with a tour?"

Harry stepped away quickly. "No, thanks, I can make up way up to the castle from here." He ripped the coat off his shoulders and held it out to Abraham.

"No," the older man shook his head. Abraham closed the distance between them and stroked across Harry's chin and down the length of his neck and Harry could only shiver when that cold hand settled on his shoulder. To his horror, he found his body unable to move away from the intoxicating touch. "We can't have you freezing to death, now can we, Cedric?" Abraham whispered to Harry, his lips barely grazed Harry's earlobe. Harry couldn't suppress the moan rising in his throat.

Harry blinked and Abraham was gone. It was as if the man had faded away into the pale yellow moonlight. He blinked again and tried to recompose himself. Had that all been a drunken hallucination? Perhaps that alcohol had been stronger than he thought. It wasn't a hallucination though. The heavy woolen coat draped over his frame was an indication of the reality- or surreality of what he had just experienced.

Harry drew the coat tighter around his body. It was strangely comforting and he couldn't help but feel the article of clothing was familiar. He breathed in deeply and found the coat smelled of sage. His world began to tip over and spin. He shook his head to clear it and continued along the path.

He really needed a good night's sleep now.

Harry stumbled over something large. He squinted to see the dark form- a body- lying on the round. He knelt down by the body.

"Are you okay?"

He received no answer. He prodded the body- now obviously female - gently but received no reaction. Harry was beginning to really worry. He rolled the girl onto her back and nearly fell back on his ass. The body was cold, chilled like the dead. The girl- no more than a child- was still in her nightgown. Her delicate face had a cherubic quality to it with her sunny golden hair. Her eyes were closed as if in sleep, hiding their color from the world.

Harry searched for a pulse but found none.


	4. The Ladies of Snape

It had been an exhausting day for Severus and he was knackered. He sighed and sat down on the edge of bed before reaching for vial of sleeping potion he kept in the top drawer of his nightstand. He and Sinclair had gone to pick up Jessica at Heathrow Airport first thing in the morning and Severus found little more distasteful than crowds. The day spent going between Muggle and wizard London afterwards didn't improve his mood.

When he rose to get ready for bed, Moppy suddenly popped into the room. "Master Severus sir, there be a Muggle policeman at the door."

"Did you answer the door?"

"No, Master. He still be knocking now."

"Stay out of sight," Severus ordered as he shed his outer robe and dumped it on the bed.

Moppy nodded and popped out of the room.

Why was the police at their door? Could it be because of Wesley? According to Moppy earlier, Wesley left the castle hours ago and he had still yet to return since they had returned to the castle. Did something happen to Wesley? Had Wesley fallen prey to whatever wild beast was terrorizing the village?

Those thoughts spurred Severus to quicken his pace. Dim light from the lanterns on the wall cast long shadows down the length of the hallway. When he reached the top of the stairs leading down to the foyer, he finally heard the loud thumping on the heavy wooden door.

" _Lumos_." Light flooded the foyer and he opened the doors.

A constable stood in the doorway, glancing nervously about. "Excuse me, Mister Snape, but a Mister Cedric Wesley claims to be residing here at the moment."

Severus folded his arms over his chest. "Yes, he does. Did something happen?" He tried not to imagine Wesley's body mangled in same manner that the other victims of the rabid creature had been.

"He discovered little Eliza Gardner's body just outside of Tittlem Corner around 10.14 and we detained him for questioning." Then the constable added hastily, "Mister Wesley seems a tad pissed though and we thought it best that someone pick him up if possible. Since you don't have a telephone and you should really-"

"Enough," Severus cut in briskly and the Muggle amazingly shut his mouth. "Is Wesley that incapacitated?"

"Not really," the constable scratched the back of his head. "But the sergeant insisted."

"Very well, let's go." Severus stepped out. The doors immediately closed behind him and the constable jumped at resounding thud.

The constable nodded and quickly turned to race halfway down the stairs. Severus scowled before following. The streets were quiet as they made their way into the village. The constable became less anxious after they passed the first lamppost on their path away from the castle.

The entire way there, Severus found it impossible not to think about Wesley. What was Wesley thinking, allowing himself to be taken into the custody of Muggle officials? So many things could go wrong. It wasn't that he was worried about Wesley per say but there were too many consequences to be considered. It was going to be a hassle if the police was going to start investigating Wesley. The police would look into him and his family by simple association, and Severus didn't need that.

When they entered the small building where the station was set up, Severus was surprised to still see the staff up and about. Though the village of Snape was small, the population was large enough to warrant their own police station. The staff was small and consisted of a handful of constables, two sergeants, and one inspector.

A sergeant greeted them by the front desk and he extended a hand to Severus. "I'm Sergeant Winfield and I'm sorry for bothering you so late at night."

After a brief moment of hesitation, Severus shook the sergeant's hand. "And Wesley?"

"I'm sorry for all the trouble, but we had to take Mister Wesley's statement. We've been waiting for poor Eliza to expire since she been sick for so long," the sergeant shook his head sadly. "She didn't look like she had much left in her anyway. Her parents reported her missing an hour or so ago after they had tucked her in."

"Will you be following up on Wesley then?"

"No, we checked up on Mister Wesley's records and we have no reason to suspect him of foul-play. We suspect that Eliza had wandered out of the house and her health just happened to fail her then. Mister Wesley has a solid alibi that we were able to confirm right away. I think Eliza's parents are grateful that Mister Wesley found poor Eliza's body before that rabid wolf did."

Severus was pleasantly surprised that Wesley had all his paperwork in enough order to not arouse the suspicion of the Muggle police when they pulled up his identity on files. It only made his life easier. He didn't feel like Obliviating anyone that night.

Severus followed the sergeant into another room off to the side. He stood in the doorway and waited as the sergeant debriefed Wesley. Wesley seemed…smaller…under the weight of a heavy coat over his shoulders. Severus couldn't help but feel the coat was somehow familiar. He watched as Wesley's gray eyes moved from the sergeant's face to Severus and then back. Wesley nodded automatically after every few words that fell from the sergeant's mouth. It was if the man wasn't fully there.

The sergeant sighed and pulled away. He turned to Severus. "Be careful with this one. He's not pissed but still a bit tipsy."

Severus nodded sharply. "Let's go, Wesley, I don't have all night."

Wesley rose to his feet without stumbling. The sergeant watched in amusement as Wesley made his way to Severus' side like a chagrined child. Severus spun around and marched out of the room. He knew full well that the dramatic effect of his exit was lost upon his meager audience without his robes.

As if Wesley had read his mind, the younger man piped up rather loudly, "You look different without your robes. Less intimidating."

Severus waited until they were clear out of the station, then he stopped abruptly and turned around to face Wesley. Wesley simply kept going and collided with Severus' chest. The man then stepped back and rubbed his forehead.

"Mister Wesley, you shouldn't drink if you can't hold your liquor properly," Severus drawled.

Wesley glared up at him, all the while looking as if he was still trying to decipher Severus' words. "I only had a few pints of ale."

"Then your foolhardy idiocy hardly needs the aid of alcohol to surface. I'm talking about your lack of discretion at the station." Severus gave the man his best glare- the one he usually reserved for the likes of Neville Longbottom.

"Oh, right," Wesley waved his hand about in a dismissive manner. "Sorry about that, didn't mean it at all."

Severus felt a familiar sort of irritation rising to the surface. He crushed it quickly. He just wanted to get back to the castle and retire to his room. "Can I trust you not to stumble into a mysterious ditch off the side of the pavement?"

"I'm fine. Not my fault the pavement won't stay still!" Wesley whined and Severus could only cringe in return.

Severus sighed and grabbed Wesley's wrist. When his fingers closed around the appendage, he found it to be smaller and more delicate than he would have originally thought. He gave little warning before he began to drag Wesley down the streets. The man stumbled to keep up with the quicker pace set by Severus' longer strides. On more than one occasion, Wesley bumped into Severus' back, sides, and arms. All of this made Severus acutely aware of the fact that Wesley was too fine-boned and tenderly shaped for a man of his age.

Severus almost thought he heard Wesley breathe at one point, "You smell nice, like sage."

He didn't bother to give it any further consideration.

...

Harry woke up the next morning feeling as if the previous night had been a dream. He knew better though. Abraham's coat thrown over the back of the sofa in his room attested to that fact. Harry took his morning shower and thanked whatever god there was for the modern amenities found even in British rural areas. Merlin, it was good to be back in England.

From the day he'd arrived, Harry had requested that Moppy not pop into his room to wake him. It wouldn't do if the house elf to find a complete "stranger" with green eyes and a prominent scar in "Cedric's" place. He began his daily routine to cement his disguise in front of the bathroom mirror. His platinum blond hair showed no sign of fading for another week or two. He laid the gray contact lenses over his irises. He had always been dreadfully afraid of poking his eye out in this process. He then covered his scar with Muggle cosmetics and spelled the cosmetics to be smudge-proof and water-proof.

Harry stared at the mirror for a while. He had out-grown his boyish looks years ago, but not before he left England. At first he thought to use glamours since they could create the illusion of an entirely different face, but it was still magic and thus subject to detection by a number of methods. He figured that the Muggle way would be the safest to go. There was no spell that would show he'd dyed his hair if he did it in a non-magical way.

Though Harry had never fancied returning to his old life, he carried with him the pieces of it that made him the man he was today. He had taken on the given name of Cedric in memory of the first of many he had watched die. Remius was an effort to give his two beloved godfathers a place together they could not have in life. Wesley was for his best friend who was cut down in the final battle. The hair color was a dedication to Draco Malfoy, first enemy, then bully, but finally reluctant ally. The boy had a tremendous effect on Harry's life. Though most of it may seem negative, they were all essential experiences that made Harry the man who had defeated Voldemort and who he was today.

Harry sighed. He was ready to start another day as Cedric Remius Wesley. He slipped on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, and decided to forgo his robes. He didn't feel the need to dress in full wizard attire everyday as Snape did. He stopped as he remembered the sight of Severus Snape without his robes. That was a something he had never seen before, even in all the years he had known the man. The man had appeared just so- a man. Snape was far less intimidating without his billowing black robes.

He quickly made his way down to the drawing room where they took their meals and tea. Moppy refused to serve breakfast until everyone was present at the table. He suspected that the move was designed to force Snape to attend breakfast with everyone else. Harry quickened his steps. He hated the idea of keeping everyone else waiting.

Everyone else was already seated when Harry arrived at the dining room. Snape was hidden behind the day's edition of the _Daily Prophet_. Sinclair had his arm around a young woman and a smile swept across Harry's lips at the sight of them together.

Sinclair was the first to notice him at the door. "Oh, Cedric, about time. Do hurry. I, for one, am famished."

Harry walked toward them and raised a questioning eyebrow. "That busy last night, huh?"

Snape snorted from behind his paper and Sinclair rolled his eyes.

Jessica Powell rose to her feet and greeted Harry with a quick hug. Harry endured the moment of uncomfortable human contact and only smiled. "Wonderful to see you again, Cedric. Sinclair was just telling me that you're done with the lower levels already."

When she pulled back, he got a chance to take a good look at her. She hadn't changed much from when he had last seen her. She'd stopped wearing her black hair in tiny braids, but her dark brown eyes still held the same warmth as before.

"Yes, it went a lot faster than I expected. Last I heard from you, you were studying computer science." Cedric sat down and breakfast appeared on the table almost immediately.

Jessica reached for the plate of blueberry waffles prepared especially for her. "That seems so long ago. I graduated a few years back. I worked for a company in D.C. for a while before I transferred out to France, where I met Sinclair two years back. At that point we were both looking to branch out into the new research on integrating computer technology into wizarding culture for better management purposes. It would sure beats doing the books the old-fashioned way."

Harry nodded. The Yanks were at the forefront of that effort. They always did take to integrating parts of Muggle culture into the American wizarding society.

Snape finally folded his paper and set it aside. It was a signal to everyone at the table to start eating.

Breakfast was pleasant enough. Their conversation ranged over a variety of subjects and Snape even interjected the occasional comment. He was startlingly polite in the presence of his family. Harry noticed that Sinclair sometimes took a teasing tone with Snape and the tone that Snape replied with was only half as biting as usual.

It was strange for Harry to sit at a table for a meal with a relatively normal family- at least by wizards' standards. It had been a long time since he had eaten breakfast with others in this manner. The last time Harry could recall was when he was back in school some five or six years ago. Harry focused on the banter between Sinclair and Jessica instead. He didn't like having to think about the past more than he had to.

...

It happened just a few days after Eliza passed away and most of the village was already in mourning. The foggy morning just before the funeral a constable came across the mangled body on a path leading into the Snape Mires, a swampy area to the east of the village. The Criminal Investigation Department was called from the nearby town of Bedale 1 and it was concluded that the man, one Phil Hume, had been attacked and mauled by a wild beast. The entire village was put on alert.

From the details disclosed by gossip, the wounds inflicted were very similar to the ones found in werewolf attacks. The full moon wasn't for another week so Harry knew it wasn't that. He wondered if the Snapes had displaced something dangerous from the castle by moving in. Harry made note to look into the possibility in the library when he found the time.

For the most part, Harry, Sinclair, and Jessica worked on the abandoned west wing toward one of the three towers. They weren't in any particular rush. In fact, Sinclair had declared his mother would be devastated if she didn't get a chance to help in the process. Snape remained devoted to whatever potion he had been trying to brew and Harry only saw enough of the irascible man at meals and tea.

They flushed out a nest of Doxies from the old draperies hanging in one of the abandoned drawing rooms. Harry wondered if Snape would have any use for their wings. If he remembered his potion lectures correctly, Doxy wings were common potion ingredients and something about freshness…

When he asked Sinclair, the other man just burst into laughter and exclaimed he wouldn't know for the life of him.

"I'm absolutely miserable at potions," Sinclair shook his head in pseudo-shame. "Shavonne's the potion prodigy of the family. Even Mère's terrible at it."

Jessica was equally clueless.

Harry shrugged and they re-entered the Doxy-infested room with Doxycide. Harry made sure to catch a few in a jar and stow it away before they eliminated all the pests in the room. When he gave them to Snape when he went to retrieve the older man for tea, he would find out.

...

Severus was at home with himself. He had been unable to experiment like this during the war. He couldn't have possibly found the time to do so. He had the time now, though.

There was a knock on his laboratory door. Severus didn't pause to think before calling, "Enter." It was most likely Sinclair coming to get him for tea since Moppy wasn't allowed to pop into the lab because of the delicate magical environment.

He continued to stir the potion as he heard the door close softly. His visitor stood by the door, as if he knew not to disturb Severus at this crucial stage of brewing. He knew then that his visitor wasn't Sinclair. The boy didn't have that sort of sense.

Severus let fall a droplet of the original variation of Wolfsbane into his experimental brew. The concoction in the cauldron turned pitch black immediately and began to boil over, all the while emitting an overwhelming scent of rotten eggs. He gave a frustrated growl and banished the second failure that week with a wave of his wand.

He turned to face his visitor and was surprised to find Wesley standing there, but he knew his expression betrayed no such emotion. Wesley hadn't come down into the dungeons ever since they cleared out the lower levels. "What is it that you want, Wesley?"

The man squeaked at his tone. The reaction reminded Severus of when he caught a student in the wrong.

"Well?" Severus found his irritation getting the better of him.

Wesley recomposed himself and glared at Severus defiantly. The other man stalked up to him and shoved a jar into his chest.

Severus took the jar carefully and ignored the chill that ran down his spine when his fingers brushed against Wesley's. He held the jar up to the meager light to examine the contents.

They were Doxies, all fairly large in size. The jar held three Doxies as prisoners, ramming into the glass sides in a vain attempt to escape. Doxy wings were common potion ingredients. The best results were achieved when the wings were freshly clipped off the Doxies, but they were often harvested in masses and preserved with a combination of potion treatment and magic. Doxies were rarely sold in apothecaries though, because they were so hard to care for, especially in droves. Severus never cared to hunt any of them down for himself.

Severus lowered his eyes to meet the gaze of the other man. He knew this wasn't Sinclair's suggestion. Then again, Longbottom had done miraculously well on his O.W.L.s, which was more than Severus could say for Sinclair. His cousin was as proficient at potions as Neville Longbottom and Jessica was equally as incompetent in the art. Shavonne, bless he, was still in France with Siobhan. This could only be Wesley's idea.

"Well?" Wesley snapped in a familiar irate tone.

"Perhaps I was too hasty in my assessment of your education," Severus drawled. If Wesley was expecting him to say "thank you," the man was sorely deluded.

"Would it kill you to say a simple thank you?" Wesley's eyes narrowed.

Severus turned away to set the jar on the worktable. Those eyes just reminded him of Black too much. "It just might," he muttered very quietly but he knew Wesley heard him. "No need to worry, I always repay my debts, Wesley."

Wesley's next words, as quiet as they were, made Severus pause for a moment. "Should have known you'd be like this. You'll never change."

"What gives you the right to claim such intimate knowledge of my personality?" Severus really disliked the way Wesley was so familiar with him, as if they had known each other for years.

Silence…

"I need to return to my work, as should you." Severus stared long and hard at the scarred surface of his worktable.

"Prat. Damn greasy git," Wesley growled at Severus' turned back. "I don't know why your wife even bothers."

Severus whirled around to stare in confusion as the door slammed behind Wesley's exit.

Wife? What in Merlin's name was the man raving about? He wasn't married.

...

Harry punched the wall in frustration. Snape always…he just never failed to bring out the worst in him. The man was such a prat! Here Harry was trying to do something nice for the git and he…

He ran a hand through his unruly hair. He forced himself to take deep breaths. There was no point in getting all upset because Snape was his normal beastly self. The man had always been an unmitigated bastard and always would be. Harry had better things to do than sulk like a school boy. It wasn't as if he owed the man anything. He squared his shoulders. That's right. Snape meant nothing to him.

Sinclair and Jessica were waiting in the drawing room for him with tea. Forget Snape! The man would be out of his life after another few weeks anyway. Merlin, Harry hated how he always managed to get under his skin.

Harry was at the foot of the stairs when he heard, "Wesley."

He forced himself not to turn around to face Snape. He listened to the sound of the footsteps bouncing off the wall that indicated that Snape was getting nearer. "What?"

"I was led to believe you were sent to fetch me for tea."

"So?"

Snape swept by him and Harry felt the older man's robes brush against his exposed forearm. He tensed as Snape came to a stop just in front of him and a few steps up the stairs.

"That was a gracious gesture, Wesley. A reference for the future though, I am not married." Snape then continued up the stairs and disappeared around the bend.

Harry blinked as his mind tried to sort through what had just happened. Did Snape just thank him in Snape-speak? And if Siobhan wasn't Snape's wife then who was she? According to Moppy, Snape didn't have any siblings. And she couldn't be his mother because Sinclair was her son and that would make Sinclair Snape's brother… He shook his head. There was not point in thinking too much about it. He would find out soon enough.

...

Harry could tell that Snape hadn't been expecting visitors that morning at breakfast. The expression only broke the surface for a few seconds before it was shuttered and Harry's gaze shifted from Snape to the two women standing in the door. Sinclair and Jessica stood immediately to meet the two and envelope the younger woman in a hug. Snape remained seated next to Harry. The man made no move to greet his family.

Harry guessed the older of the two women was Siobhan Snape. She was taller than most of the women Harry had met in life and even taller than Snape by a centimeter or two. While her complexion was pale, she didn't look unhealthy in the same way Snape did. Her long black hair fell freely over her slim shoulders. She wore form-fitting robes that Harry recognized to be of the highest quality.

She stopped right by Snape's side and placed her hands on her hips. "I know I taught you better manners than that, ma chér." Her scowl resembled Snape's in a frightening manner.

Harry listened carefully to the voice. He knew that somewhere deep inside of him, he had expected Siobhan Snape to be…be…like Snape. Her voice was husky and deep, and it couldn't be described as effeminate but it was pleasant to listen to. She didn't have an accent like Harry would have expected from someone who lived in France for as many years as she had. Even Sinclair had only the bare hints of an accent- though it sounded more American than French at times.

Harry watched as Snape glared up at the woman. "You were due to arrive _tomorrow_ , Siobhan."

Siobhan Snape's scowl broke into a rather lovely smile, in Harry's opinion at least. "I thought it would be a nice surprise. Besides, I figured you would like Shavonne to help you with your potion."

At the mention of her name, Shavonne Snape approached the table with her brother and his fiancée trailing behind her. Shavonne looked like she had just left school, just a teenager. She possessed the same traces of Asian descent that Sinclair did, found in her sharp bright eyes. She wasn't exceptionally tall like her mother.

"Severus," the young woman bent down and pecked Snape on the cheek.

Shavonne's eyes shifted from Snape to Harry. A spark of interest lit up her eyes. "Who is this fine young gentleman?"

Unlike the rest of her family, Shavonne had a heavier accent, but she spoke English far better than Fleur had. Unlike her mother, she was the very picture of femininity. She leaned over toward Harry in what appeared to be a seductive manner. Harry gulped as she batted her eyelashes at him. She was really making him feel uncomfortable.

Siobhan saved him when she brushed her daughter aside. "Mister Wesley?" she extended a hand forward and smiled benevolently down at him. Harry had the feeling that he would get along just fine with the older woman. He couldn't help but feel he had seen her somewhere before. Harry nodded, took her hand, and shook it. "Just call me Cedric."

"I would like to formally thank you for your service to Snape Castle. Allow me to properly introduce my daughter, Shavonne Snape."

Shavonne smiled sweetly at Harry, a bit too sweetly now that he thought about it.

Siobhan placed a hand over her bosom. "I am Siobhan Snape, Severus' aunt. Pleased to meet you."

...

After breakfast, Siobhan stopped him on his way out of the room, "I would like to discuss your progress so far, and your future plans."

"Now?" Harry asked. This would be his first meeting with his employer and he felt slightly nervous.

"Yes," she nodded. "If that suits you."

"Of course."

She smiled at him in a gentle manner and her face, smooth and pale, seemed to light up. Harry wondered if she was older or younger than Snape. Age was a very difficult thing to determine once a witch or wizard reached their thirties. The fact that she was Snape's aunt seemed to suggest she was older, but looking at her now, he found that hard to believe.

She led him back to the library where she headed straight for the first shelf and pulled out one of the books on the top shelf. She stopped to look around the library for something before directing them to the window ledge in the back of the library where he'd been reading two days ago.

The older woman sighed. "I'm sorry but we're going to have to stand. The furniture should arrive soon."

"It's no trouble at all." Harry shook his head.

"I know the rooms are bare now but I hope they have been accommodating," she said as she dusted off the surface of the ledge. "I hope Moppy has been accommodating as well."

"It's all well," he replied simply.

She stopped and looked at him very carefully. The one thing she seemed to share with Snape was that dark penetrating stare. Remembering what eye contact could mean, he immediately closed off his mind. He didn't understand why a flash of hurt flickered through her eyes.

Her voice was suddenly very soft when she spoke again, "I didn't mean it like that, Cedric. Has Severus been treating you well?"

Harry straightened his back and stiffened his posture. "I imagine the Professor is treating me as he would anyone."

"In other words, absolutely beastly," she sighed. "Severus was never an amiable person and it's really a shame."

 _No shit_ , Harry added to himself silently.

"If we may continue…" Harry said quietly. He was here to talk about the job, not to make idle conversation about Snape.

"Oh yes, of course."

Siobhan opened the book and unfurled the fold-out in the center of the book. It was a layout of Snape Castle, from the dungeons to the highest tower. He watched as she drew her wand from her voluminous sleeve and waved it over the fold-out. A three-dimensional blueprint of the castle sprang up over the pages of the book. "What have you been able to accomplish so far?"

Harry pointed to the lower levels. "We're done with the dungeons. I was attacked by a swarm of vampire bats the first day down there but neither the Professor nor I can find any nesting place. We came to the conclusion they must have gotten in through some opening in the dungeon. Since they were non-magical, the Professor deemed it unnecessary to worry about them."

Siobhan nodded and pointed her wand at the lower levels, which blacked out of the blueprint. "I assume Severus has already set up his lab down there then?"

"Yes, ma'am. He's been working down there and left Sinclair to supervise me these last few days."

"Please, Cedric. Just call me Siobhan. I'm not like Severus so you don't need to be so formal with me." She smiled and Harry felt some tension bleed out of him but he would not relax around her.

"You honor me with your request," Harry muttered in return.

"So polite," she sighed. "Please continue."

"Sinclair and I finished with the west wing as of yesterday and there were only the usual household pests like Doxies."

She pointed her wand at the aforementioned west wing and blacked it out. "I see, you're working your way toward the first of the towers then?"

Harry nodded. "We were going to start on the west tower today."

"Perhaps I should explain the history of this castle and its architecture?"

"If you believe it would be helpful."

"Snape Castle was built in the 15th century and all of its original architecture remains today. There was some work done in the early 60s for plumbing and such. There are four towers, each in one of the cardinal directions. However," she pointed her wand at the north wing and highlighted the north wing and the north tower in red. "This section connects the north wing to the north tower, Uriel's Tower, which collapsed in 1694, I believe it was. There has never been an attempt to clear out the ruins and rebuild that part of the castle. Since this is a wizarding castle, we can infer that we better not meddle with that area and leave it as it is if no one has bothered to repair it since."

Harry examined the blueprint. It made sense. Something like that could be easily fixed and if it wasn't fixed by now, over a century later, they best not try either.

"Because of that, the north wing has been relatively abandoned since the collapse. I would encourage you not to venture into that area. We need not worry about there then. Looking at what has been done so far, I don't think it'll take us much longer before we're finished with the castle. Moppy will handle the clean-up and maintain the areas you've worked our way through. I'm in no particular hurry. I'd rather we be thorough than quick. From here on, it will be you, Sinclair, and Jessica. Will that be enough for you to work with? Severus is working on a very important experiment right now, so he'll need Shavonne full time since she's the only other person in the family with any potions know-how. Snape Castle isn't very big in the way of castles but it's still a big job for such a short time."

"That'll be more than enough. I understand you just want the job done before Jessica's and Sinclair's wedding in July."

"Yes. The castle also needs to be re-warded soon. The previous wards were taken down by the Ministry of Magic after the first war. I hope you will be our Guardian Benefactor in the warding ceremony. Jessica tells me you're quite the powerful wizard." She glanced down the length of her nose at him.

Harry swallowed his protest. He knew that was not an offer but a disguised order, much like the ones Dumbledore used to give. "I can't refuse."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Bedale is the closest town to Snape that actually appears on a map. It is located at the western end of the Eastern Area of North Yorkshire's Police forces.


	5. The Beast Within

Severus couldn't believe Siobhan. After the spectacle she made that morning, she insisted on eating out as a family. Of course, Wesley was invited too. They had a perfectly capable house elf and yet the woman said they should eat out.

That was how they ended up at the Castle Arms Inn for dinner. It was rather crowded but then again, it was the beginning of the holidays for most people. During the summer holidays, North Yorkshire, especially Whitby, got its fair share of tourism. None of the patrons paid any extra attention to them so they must have looked relatively Muggle.

They were seated by the window near the fireplace in the back of the restaurant. Shavonne was entertaining Sinclair and Jessica with tales of her last days at Beauxbatons. Severus simply sat back and tried to relieve his annoyance. Even eating in the Great Hall among hundreds of chattering children wasn't as irritating as this.

Severus looked out the window in an attempt to distract himself with the scenery outside. He nearly dropped his wine glass when he caught sight of the man standing outside of the window. The man was as tall as Severus and watching- Severus followed the man's line of vision- Wesley with a strange expression.

"Wesley?"

The man looked up in surprise. "Yes?"

"Do you know that man?" Snape simply nodded in the direction of the window.

Wesley's eyes widened in surprise. The man outside began gesturing to Wesley. It seemed he wanted Wesley to meet with him outside. Wesley quickly excused himself from the table and left the restaurant.

Shavonne leaned forward to get a better look of the man in question. "Who's that?"

Severus pointedly turned away from the window when Wesley entered the scene outside. "I couldn't possibly care any less."

It was hard to ignore the two outside. Severus' curiosity shouldn't have gotten the better of him but it did. As happy as he was for Sinclair and his fiancée, Severus did not need to constantly hear about the upcoming wedding or the preparations.

Wesley seemed oblivious to the fact he now had an audience. Wesley's companion wasn't as dense. The taller man glanced at Severus out of the corner of his eye and smirked. Severus bristled silently at the action. He got enough of that bullock from the monsters he taught. There was something not right about the man either, he emitted such a suspicious aura that Severus wanted to storm outside and drag Wesley as far as possible from this stranger.

Wesley's friend laughed about something and bent down until his lips were level with Wesley's ears. Severus could not help but feel that such was inappropriate behavior on the part of the man. Pale fingers reached up to barely brush the fringes of Wesley's blond hair and trailed down the side of Wesley's face to the man's exposed throat. Severus hadn't realized that he was holding his breath until he exhaled when Wesley stepped. Wesley replied in what appeared to be a brisk manner before walking away.

The man did not leave right after Wesley's departure as Severus would have guessed. Instead, the man turned fully to face Severus and smiled, showing sharp white teeth against the fullness of those strange red lips. Severus watched as the man's gaze slid from him to the unknowing Shavonne and back. He mouthed something at Severus. Severus did not know what the man meant to say but the atmosphere seemed to darken. Severus did not like the way a light- like hell fire- danced in the depths of the man's eyes.

With one final smirk, the man walked off to the left and out of the view range of the window. Severus could not shake off the feeling that there was something strange about the man's departure, aside from all the other ominous sensations. His train of thought was brought to a halt when Wesley seated himself back at the table and the waiter brought them their meals.

Shavonne immediately began questioning Wesley, "Who was that? He was…pleasing to the eye."

Severus saw Sinclair roll his eyes down the length of the table. Wesley was evading Shavonne's interrogation with a sort of practiced ease. He must have had much experience spinning half-truths and evasive rhetoric. Not that Severus cared.

He focused on his meal instead. He didn't care about Wesley or the strange man who could only be no good. Wesley could take care of himself. Severus would hope so.

...

"You mentioned a shop earlier. If you don't mind me asking, what is it that you do?"

"I'm a seamstress," Siobhan replied.

Harry stared at her because he wasn't sure how to reply.

She laughed. "I run a robes shop in Marseille (1)."

He felt stupid. "Oh, like Madam Malkin."

Snape jumped into the conversation suddenly. "Don't insult Siobhan's craft by comparing her with Madame Malkin, Wesley. Siobhan spell-weaves, she doesn't just make any ordinary robe."

Harry turned to glare at Snape. He was absolutely sure he hadn't said anything rude enough- ignorant maybe but not rude- to warrant a tongue lashing from the older man. Snape scoffed at him and turned away.

"Severus!" Siobhan exclaimed and scowled.

Sinclair sighed from his place next to Harry. "Forget it, Mére. It's not like he would ever apologize."

Siobhan leaned back in her chair and sighed. She shot another look at Snape but the man was pointedly not looking back. "You don't know much about spell-weaving, do you Cedric?"

Harry shook his head.

"We specialize in things like invisibility cloaks and robes with protection spells, basically anything where the magic is woven into the foundation of the fabric. But enough about me. My life must be rather boring in comparison to yours. Why did you choose to go into this line of work? It's not exactly a common profession." Siobhan rested her chin on her propped up hands.

"Do tell!" Shavonne clapped her hands together in delight.

Harry swallowed as all eyes at the table turned to him. He recognized the suspicion that was shining so brightly in Snape's dark eyes. He shrugged nonchalantly as he replied, "The money's not bad, and it offers me a lot of opportunities to see the world. It's better than being tied down to some boring desk job," he glanced at Sinclair and Jessica out of the corner of his eye. "No offense to you two, of course."

Sinclair chuckled. "None taken."

"Still, it must be hard moving around all the time. Don't you miss your family and friends? What about your parents?" Siobhan asked.

"Siobhan, I don't think-" Jessica started, but Harry cut her off.

He could be perfectly honest on this aspect. "No, Jessica, it's okay. I don't mind."

Jessica shot him a concerned glance, but he smiled softly just to reassure her. It worked.

"I'm an orphan. My parents both died when I was very young so I've lived without them for most of my life. I was raised by relatives. They didn't like me very much but they raised me anyway. I don't have any other family besides them and they'd rather not have to see me." Harry shrugged again.

"My apologies, chér, I didn't know." Siobhan suddenly looked appalled with herself.

Harry tensed and bit his lower lip. It still hurt to think of what he'd never had, but it no longer hurt as much as it used to. He guessed he just got used to the fact. He didn't mind telling the truth where his family was concerned, but others' reactions always made him regret doing so.

Snape snorted loudly. "Please, Siobhan, you act as if Wesley's the only person you've ever met who's been orphaned."

"You could show at least a bit of sympathy." Jessica snapped while her eyes sparked with anger.

"Jessica, if I'd taken time to sympathize with every lack-wit, dunderhead, and unfortunate sod, I'd have died at the hands of the Dark Lord years ago. It's simply not productive," Snape drawled and sipped his wine. "Besides, Wesley's here. He's in one piece, mentally and physically. I don't know what more he can ask for in light of his past."

Jessica opened her mouth to either defend Harry again or scold Snape further but Harry just shook his head. "Don't, Jessica. I'm fine with it really. The professor's right on in a lot of ways."

"Of course, I am."

The man was really impossible at times. Snape rarely said anything flattering, but Harry would never expect anything more or less from him. He was overcome with the urge to wipe that arrogant sneer from Snape's lips. He hated how those strange feelings just settled in the bottom of his stomach and refused to go away. It reminded Harry of how he felt around Abraham sometimes, vaguely uncomfortable, but all the more enthralling.

Shavonne excused herself from the table, and conversation and dining resumed again after a few moments of awkward silence. The conversation moved away from Harry and his past, which he was infinitely glad for, to Sinclair and Jessica's work. Snape just sat back and snipped as usual at anyone and anything. Half an hour later, Shavonne had yet to return.

"I'm worried," Siobhan frowned and dropped her napkin on the table to rise in her chair. "I'm going to look for Shavonne."

"No need, Mére," Shavonne made her way back to the table. "I'm right here."

"Where did you go?" Siobhan demanded and lowered herself back into her seat.

"To the toilet and I just met someone on the way back," the younger witch protested indignantly. "I'm fine. I can take care of myself. I'm a fully certified witch now." She received a glare from Snape for speaking so casually about her powers in the presence of Muggles.

"Was it someone you knew?" Jessica asked curiously.

"No," Shavonne shook her head as she sat back down. "Someone Cedric knows though." She winked at Harry.

Harry furrowed his brow. Who could she possibly be talking about?

"That handsome gentleman you met with just before!" Shavonne exclaimed. "He stopped me to ask about you but then invited me to sit with him at the pub and he bought me a drink."

"You're under-age according to Muggles." Snape deadpanned with a disapproving expression.

Shavonne threw her hands in the air in frustration. "It was non-alcoholic so stop worrying."

"You don't even know him. What if he had taken you, what then?" Snape snapped.

"Calm down Severus, the Dark Lord's dead and has been for years now. There's no need to get your knickers in a knot."

"And you're far too trusting and naïve for your own good."

"Well, Cedric knows him so he must be decent." Shavonne huffed.

Snape muttered something inaudible under his breath.

Siobhan sighed, "Give us a warning first next time, chérie."

"Yes, Mére," the younger witch sighed in defeat. "Oh, I didn't catch his name. What is it, Cedric?"

"Abraham," he muttered. He could feel Snape's wary glare burning through him again.

...

The next week passed in relative peace. Snape continued to work on his project and took on Shavonne as his lab assistant. They had finished with Raphael's Tower and were working on Gabriel's Tower. Harry and Sinclair were taking care of a few Glumbumbles they found nested in one of the cracks of the wall in the tower stairwell. Harry took care to capture a few and set them aside for Snape. Somewhere along the way, and he wasn't sure when or where, Harry had learned that the Glumbumbles' secretions were used as an antidote for some types of magically induced hysteria.

"I heard this morning that they found two more bodies by the Mire." Sinclair sat down on one of the steps of the stairwell and motioned for Harry to join him.

"Really? Were they mangled like the last one?" Harry asked. These strange deaths were becoming a big problem.

"Very similar," Sinclair sighed. "The authorities have had no luck so far. They say it's most likely a rabid wolf. What do you think? Could it be a Dark creature? Maybe a…werewolf?"

Harry shook his head. "It can't be a werewolf. This started last week, well before the full moon this weekend. It might be another magical creature but I wouldn't wait for the Ministry since there aren't that many witches and wizards up here anyway."

Sinclair sighed again. "If this doesn't stop, it's going to hurt tourism. Severus tells me it's the village's greatest source of income."

Harry froze when a familiar feeling prickled the back of his neck and ran down the column of his spine. There was a Dark creature on castle ground, and it wasn't one of the low class pests Harry had been dealing with so far. Their numbers had dwindled significantly in the castle since he arrived and this presence was infinitely different. He could feel it growing exponentially stronger with the upcoming full moon.

It was a threat and it needed to be eliminated immediately. That was the reason Harry tried to give himself to delay the inevitable realization that he was only seeking to placate the curse. He dropped everything he was doing and headed for the source of the darkness. The elimination of the threat was now the highest priority.

"Cedric? Is something wrong?" Sinclair was watching him curiously.

"No, nothing," Harry replied. "Don't worry. I just have to go to the loo."

Harry rushed down the stairs before Sinclair could ask any more questions about his odd behavior. His mind was focused solely on the dark life and presence of his prey. The hunt here had been insufficient so far- with only a few Red Caps to, at best, stave off the hunger. He craved something larger and more powerful- like this new arrival.

He traced the creature's presence to the foyer and froze in his steps when he saw Snape standing there as well. Harry felt his old distrust for the man rise again and shook his head in a vain attempt to clear it. He couldn't even hear what Snape was saying over the pounding of his racing heart. His thoughts were trained on his prey, blocked from view by Snape's larger form.

Harry felt the creature move closer to Snape. Snape just stood there and continued to rage- if his rigid posture was any indication. Harry couldn't wait any longer. He may not like Snape but he wasn't going to let the man be killed.

He whipped out his wand and rushed forward, knocking Snape aside and tackling the Dark creature. His body was completely on auto-pilot, as was his intent. Harry never saw the shocked yet horrified expression that crossed Snape's face, and barely registered the fact that his knees had jarred painfully against some metal contraption. All he knew now was he had the creature pinned to the floor and that delicious life was finally within his grasp.

" _Expelliarmus!_ "

Harry didn't feel inconvenienced in the least without his wand. He simply reached for the silver-coated dagger he always kept strapped to his thigh. The weight of the weapon in his hand was greater than his wand but it felt more familiar and comfortable. He glanced down at the creature as his dagger sought out the heart and froze. Familiar amber- _human_ \- eyes stared up at him in shock.

Harry felt himself being pried away by Snape's strong hands and didn't bother to fight the older man. Everything felt numb as Harry gazed down at the bruised figure of Remus Lupin lying on the stone floor. This couldn't be right. Remus was _dead_. His hands fell limply to his sides and the dagger slipped out of his unfeeling fingers, hitting the stone below with an empty clatter.

...

Severus tightened his grip on the madman, one hand around Wesley's wrist and the other on his shoulder. Severus leaned his head down to the side of Wesley's face and snarled, "What in Merlin's name is going on inside that pretty little head of yours? I may loathe Lupin but I will not be a witness to murder in my foyer."

Wesley gave no indication of having heard Severus' words. Severus continued to wait as Lupin summoned his wheelchair and climbed painstakingly back onto it. Severus growled when Wesley chose not to even nod. He settled his other hand on the man's other shoulder and spun Wesley around. Wesley's eyes were dilated like he had gone into shock and his breathing was labored. This was almost as disconcerting as Wesley's earlier maddened expression.

Severus shook the younger man. "Didn't you hear me, Wesley? Whatever vendetta you have against Lupin, resolve it elsewhere."

Wesley's mouth was moving- as if speaking, but Severus couldn't hear the words. He leaned in closer until his lips were just a centimeter away from Wesley's jaw to hear the words.

"This can't be right," the younger man whispered in denial. "He's dead. He couldn't have survived. This is all a lie."

...

Harry felt the warmth move in closer, and the lean, hard body barely brushing against him. The whisper of soft cloth against his bare skin was almost comforting in the face of his turmoil. He breathed in the smell of sage as he tried to regain control over his world.

Remus was _dead_ , dead meaning not being in the world of the living anymore. Dead- making it impossible for him to be in this castle right now. Dead like Sirius and where the two were finally united as they could never have or be with each other in life. Dead…

Harry leaned into the body in front of him. It was real in comparison. He _knew_ it was there in front of him and it wasn't a figment of his imagination- like Remus must be.

The curse demanded his attention and it cried in outrage after being cheated of its prey. Harry couldn't kill this creature that wore Remus' face, even if Remus was already dead. On their own accord, his hands trailed up the length of the body he was pressing himself into. This was real. This life in front of him was real. The curse demanded satisfaction.

Harry never had been strong enough to fight it off completely.

It was why he ran in the first place.

The hands on Harry's shoulders tightened their grip as he reached out to touch the body in front of him. Harry's hands swept across broad shoulder tops to rest at the base of the neck- at the throat. He could feel the breath- _life_ \- pulsing under his fingertips and he squeezed with all his might.

The hands on Harry's shoulders tore into his flesh. It wouldn't be a wonder if Harry was bleeding underneath his t-shirt. None of that mattered, though. There was only the life he held so firmly in his grasp.

Then he felt it- the nudge of the sharp end of a wand stabbing into his jugular. Harry looked up to see the expression of the face as life bled from it and the body, yet looking into the furious face of Severus Snape…reality slammed into him with vicious force. Before Harry could force his body to stop and pull away, Snape hissed a hex.

Harry flew back and slid across the length of the floor to slam into something hard. His vision darkened for a moment as his senses reeled from the attack. The curse flared to life again as Harry tasted the lingering dark magic on his tongue. He glanced back to see what was jabbing painfully into his back. It was a wheelchair.

Harsh footsteps signaled the approach of Snape. Harry pushed himself up into a sitting position when Snape stopped right in front of him. The hand holding the wand trained on him quivered with rage. Snape didn't even bother to question him before he threw another hex at him.

Harry threw up one hand and screamed the first spell that came to mind that wouldn't hurt Snape, " _Protego!_ "

His shield spell not only blocked the hex but reflected it too. Snape was quick to hurl himself out of the path of the rebound spell. Harry knew this would be his only chance to get away. He clambered to his feet and ran out of the foyer and through the main doors. He needed to get away and get some fresh air. Merlin, he had lost control.

...

Severus didn't give the command for the front doors to close in time because Wesley was already halfway across the front courtyard when the double doors finally sealed. He cursed under his breath. He didn't really understand what had just happened, other than the fact that Wesley had tried to kill him.

He turned to Lupin, slumped over in the wheelchair and breathing hard. "Do I need to call a mediwitch?"

"I'm fine, Severus," Lupin leaned back and sighed.

Severus took deep breaths to try and calm his rage, but his body still trembled from the left-over adrenaline still rushing through his veins. He had half a mind to Floo the Ministry but he wasn't going to deal with Aurors unless he absolutely had to. He was confident he could handle Wesley. While Wesley had just shown competence in dueling and perhaps the advantage of sheer power, Severus saw no reason to believe he wouldn't be able to best Wesley. He was a Slytherin after all.

Lupin broke his reverie. "Who…was that?"

He crossed his arms and looked toward the closed doors again. "The exterminator Siobhan hired, Cedric Remius Wesley."

"You mean a Hunter?" Lupin's eyes became a bit harder to read. "I didn't know they still existed in England. They've been banned since the establishment of the Werewolf Registry (2)."

"You know officially they don't," Snape smirked at Lupin's naïveté. "The few that do remain pass themselves off as exterminators. From what I've heard, Wesley has been in Eastern Europe for the last few years. You know how lax the Ministries over there are."

Lupin wheeled over to his side. Severus scowled and stepped away. He could never understand why the werewolf insisted on being so polite with him. "At least I know why he tried to take my life."

"That was still out of character for Wesley. He doesn't appear to be from the Hunter's traditions," But then again, Severus really knew nothing about Wesley or his true intents. "Come Lupin, Shavonne is waiting in the drawing room with your potion."

"What about him?" Lupin looked back at the closed doors.

"I'll handle him on my own terms later."

He knew Wesley would be back later and he would deal with the younger man then.

...

Severus unexpectedly found it at the bottom of his trunk when he was searching for some type of Dark Detector he had received as gag gifts in the past. He ran his hand across the fabric of the tattered robes. It had been reduced almost to rags, but Severus could still feel the wards and protective charms woven into the cloth. A few firm knocks sounded against the wood of his chamber doors.

"Enter."

Severus didn't lift his gaze from the ruined robes as he heard the gentle footsteps pad over to his side and stop.

"You kept them…"

Severus could not help the tiny grin that crept across his thin lips. He really was fond of Siobhan. They had only had each other when they were growing up. "Of course. It was your gift to me when I finished school." He looked up at his aunt.

Siobhan looked away in shame. "And then I found out about your Dark Mark after you came home. We fought over it. It was the first time we ever argued in such a manner. I married Paul the week after, moved to Provence (3), and didn't look back. I left you to fend for yourself in the war. I thought you would have burnt it."

"It would be a shame if I had destroyed something you spent so much time on. It's been very useful to me," Severus laid the robes on his lap and made room for the older woman to sit down next to him. He took her hand gently and tugged, indicating he wanted her to sit. "It was for the better that you remained in France. I did not want you involved in the war here. You were newly-wed and soon thereafter with child. I would not have been comfortable with having you in the midst of all this danger, especially since you were considered a blood traitor."

Siobhan placed her hands over his. "I should have been here though. We're family. Family is supposed to be there for each other. I failed you though, and abandoned you."

He threw her an annoyed look. "I am not so weak that I need your constant supervision, Siobhan. The robe that you wove was a more than adequate substitute in your absence. It saved my life many times."

Siobhan's hand moved from their place over his to rub the fabric between her fingers. "This was my greatest work. It won me my Mastery. I made it with you in mind. You were always getting yourself in some sort of trouble or other when I wasn't there to watch you. I wove the strongest spells I could find into it. I had to start all over several times because the fabric was not strong enough to withstand the magic I was channeling through it."

"How was your meeting today?" Severus changed the subject in a not-so-subtle manner. He did not feel like talking about the past right now.

"The client just wanted to know if I could work an invisibility quality into the cloak I'm weaving for him." She allowed the fabric to slip through her fingers. "I heard Remus came today but Sinclair couldn't tell me all the details. What happened, Severus? Where's Cedric?"

He lifted a hand to rub the base of his neck. He wondered if there were any visible signs of Wesley's attack on him earlier. He had been trying specifically not to think about Wesley- not to think about the warm body pressed against him and those full lips parted to breathe deeply. Some part of him demanded that Severus be furious with the other man for trying to kill him. Severus wasn't sure what he felt toward Wesley at the moment. Severus had seen it today- a glimpse of a familiar darkness hidden away in the younger man.

"Wesley didn't take well to Lupin's presence in the castle. I managed to pry Wesley away from Lupin but he then turned his attack on me. When he looked up at my face, he appeared to regain a hold on himself. He fled and hasn't been back since."

"Oh dear, that's what happened to him?"

Severus became angry because her tone was too casual and it shouldn't have been. Wesley had attacked not only Lupin but him as well. Did she really intend to let such a threat continue to reside in the same castle as the rest of them?

She looked up at him with _that_ look. "I think you should go get him."

He stared at her. He always knew she was a bit touched in the head, what with all the time she spent around Albus. The old man's unstable mental nature was bound to be contagious after a certain point and Siobhan appeared to be no exception. "That idiot tried to _kill_ me. Were you not listening to a single word I said?" Severus stood and loomed over her, sputtering in fury.

She pinned him with a fierce glare as she raised a robe arm to wipe the spittle from her face. It was then he remembered that she had been the one to keep him in line as a child and knew most, if not all, of his dirty little secrets. "All I know is that Cedric has been gone for hours now and knowing your sweet disposition, you must have said or done something that added to his distress. It's obvious that there's something going on with Cedric and he needs help. I intend to give it to him." She rose to her feet and eliminated any height advantage Severus had over her. He resented how tall she was sometimes.

"I will not. I will not have him in this castle endangering my heirs. What is this persistent need you have to save everyone you deem to be in distress? Is it because you couldn't save Paul? Are you going to spend the rest of your life rescuing others for that bit of hollow satisfaction to fill the void left by your beloved husband's death?" He sneered.

She drew back as if he had physically struck her or hexed her and he might as well have. "You will return with Cedric or you will not return at all! I will have the Ministry remove you from the premises."

Severus was left with his jaw hanging open as she swept out of the room. It was then he remembered why at times he despised her too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Marseilles is a town in the south of France. Beauxbatons is believed to be located in that area.
> 
> (2) According to Fantastic Beasts & Where to Find Them, the Werewolf Registry was created in 1947 as a division of the Ministry's Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.
> 
> (3) Provence is a large area located in the southern tip of France, right off the Mediterranean Sea. It includes a number of towns, cities, and villages, including Marseille (where some fans figure Beauxbatons is located near).


	6. No Escaping

Harry was seated on the sloped banks of the Snape Beck, the small river he had discovered the first time he explored the village. He picked up the rocks on the embankment and tossed them into the running water, watching the fish flee and the water splash upwards.

Bloody hell, how was he supposed to go back to the castle now? He had tried to _kill_ both Remus and Snape. He would consider himself lucky if the Aurors weren't already looking for him to charge him with attempted murder. He drew his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on his knees. He couldn't believe that had ended so spectacularly badly.

He quickly began to formulate a plan. He would sneak back into the castle after dark to get his trunk, and he'd leave England again. He'd probably have to come up with a new disguise, but he was going to have a hard time, having to do without falsified documents like the ones he had now. No matter, he would manage somehow- like he always did.

Harry groaned. What was he thinking? That was a stupid plan. That was the type of hair-brained scheme he would come up with in his school days. He was better off just turning himself in. The curse must afford him some protection in the eyes of the law- maybe something like the insanity clause.

He didn't know how long he had been sitting on the grass, but the sun began to sink in the western sky sometime ago and the sky was becoming rapidly dark. His stomach grumbled. Hunger was slowly creeping over him, but he didn't have any money on his person. He tried desperately to ignore his hunger for both subsistence and life.

Perhaps this was a worst idea than he thought- coming back to England and all.

"What are you doing out alone out here?"

Harry looked up to see Abraham towering over him and couldn't help but think that the man looked beautiful in the dying light of the setting sun. He looked away immediately. What was he thinking? First that thing with Snape… Harry's breath was caught in his throat as he remembered the feel and warmth of Snape's hard body. He suppressed a shudder.

He admitted he had never bothered to resolve the issue of his sexuality. All his life, Harry never had the time to entertain any possibility of romantic relationships. After his failed attempt to woo Cho Chang, he devoted himself completely to defeating Voldemort. Yet once that was done, the curse had destroyed any possibility of initiating any sort of intimate relationship. It would have been too dangerous. Now was as an inconvenienced time as ever for the matter to come up.

Abraham sat down next to him and was watching Harry intently, even though Harry was trying his best to ignore the older man. Harry shifted a little over to the side- away from Abraham- before speaking, "You always seem to know where to find me when I come into town."

Abraham chuckled and leaned in toward Harry with a toothy grin. "Your presence is just that intoxicating. You can say I'm drawn to you like a moth to a flame."

Harry placed a hand on the grass to push against the ground and move even further away. He wasn't comfortable with Abraham's advances, but he couldn't deny the fact he was involuntarily responding to them as well. "Just stop it. You don't want to piss me off right now, so just stop it."

Abraham laid a hand over his and threaded his fingers through Harry's, gripping the hand tightly. He leaned it so his lips barely brushed against Harry's earlobes. "Don't you think you should stop running, Cedric? Why do you have to hide those brilliant emerald eyes? Or that scar? Your name isn't Cedric, is it? You can't keep running like this. It's killing you."

Harry tried to disguise his shock, but he knew he had failed from Abraham's triumphant expression. Abraham held his hand in a vice grip and Harry just couldn't get away. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to in the first place. "How did you know?"

Abraham released Harry's hand to place his arm around Harry's waist. He pulled Harry into his lap so that his chin was resting on top of Harry's head. "I also know you're a wizard. I know that you are cursed. I know that you tried to kill that werewolf and Severus. It's not your fault though. You can't fight off that curse forever. Believe me when I say I know what it's like to fight something like that."

Harry froze in Abraham's embrace- it was cold. He had noticed that when Abraham caught his hand before, but now it was like being trapped in an iceberg. Harry's breath was caught in his throat, along with his ability to protest Abraham's unwelcome actions. It was nothing like Snape's warm body, which inflamed Harry's senses with a mere touch. Harry shivered.

"Cold?" Abraham bent over his shoulder to graze Harry's cheek.

Harry turned his face away and steeled his voice. "Since you know I'm a wizard, I'll have you know I have no qualms about hexing you if you don't let go of me this instant. Your advances are not welcomed, Abraham."

Abraham chortled again, "Hex me? Are you sure you can do such a thing? You may not have your wand, but you still have your wandless magic. Go ahead, hex me if that is your will."

Harry opened his mouth and one of the foulest curses he knew sat at the tip of the tongue, but it refused to move. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't think, and couldn't fight this delicious but so wrong- just wrong- sensation rolling over him.

Abraham moved his mouth to Harry's ear again. "See? You can't fight this, fight me. It'll only be a matter of time before you surrender to me." Abraham unwrapped his arms from around Harry's waist and gave Harry's back a gentle push that propelled him to scramble away from Abraham. "Remember though, I am the only one who can understand your pain. I know how you can control that curse. I know your secrets but I would keep them for eternity. Find me when you're ready to join me."

Harry felt one last lingering touch down the back of his exposed neck. When he finally looked up, Abraham was gone and the fog that first descended over his mind whenever he was in Abraham's presence automatically cleared. Breath came rushing back into his lungs, and he slouched. His pulse drummed in his ears, reminding him he was still alive and well- for now. He wrapped his arms around himself to fight off the bone-chilling cold Abraham had enveloped him in. Why couldn't life ever be simple for him? He wasn't even Harry-bloody-Potter technically and all sorts of shit still happened to him.

He didn't know how much longer he sat there afterwards as he tried to recompose himself. He didn't understand why Abraham affected him in that way and it only got worse every time they met. Some indeterminable amount of time later, a light summer cloak fell over his head. It jolted Harry out of his reverie. He brushed the cloak off and looked up in surprise. "What?"

"As much as I would rather leave you out here, I don't fancy hearing from the constable that you are the latest victim of that rabid beast." Snape wasn't even looking down at him. He was looking across the beck at the house on the other side.

"I tried to kill you," Harry gnawed on his lower lip. "I tried to _kill_ you."

"I've noticed," Snape drawled. Harry saw that the man was watching him furtively out of the corner of dark eyes. "You will be pleased to know that I have not informed the Ministry of your attempt on my life or Lupin's."

"And why? Why haven't you called in the Ministry?" Harry just had to challenge Snape. The man was too calm. Earlier, Snape looked ready to murder Harry in return.

"The Department of Magical Law Enforcement and I have a rather turbulent and sour history together. I will take my chances with you over the Aurors, though I may come to regret that choice in time." Snape headed back up the slope. "Let's go, Wesley. Siobhan will have my head if you should either starve or freeze to death, however exaggerated either threat may be."

Harry jumped to his feet and wrapped the cloak around his shoulders. "Wait a second."

Snape didn't stop, but Harry caught up with him and they began to walk back to the castle together. Halfway there, Harry still felt he owed the older man an explanation of some kind. "Don't you want to know why I did what I did?"

Snape only quickened his steps at Harry's words before coming to a sudden stop. He whirled around, and Harry could see the expression of absolute fury on his former teacher's face. It was so strange because it was still more restrained than Harry would have expected. "I couldn't care less, Wesley. Your problems are your own. You may have taken me by surprise before but I will not forget the events of today so easily. I do not trust you."

Harry lowered his gaze. What had he been expecting? He had tried to strangle the man and Snape had every right to be angry and suspicious. He wasn't sure what to do. It was becoming dangerous for him to stay here any longer.

It began to rain as they made their way back to the castle. He pulled the cloak around his body as Snape cast a subtle rain repelling charm around himself.

...

"Why can't I leave?" Harry exclaimed. He should have known it was a bad idea to follow Snape back here. He should have known he wasn't going to get away so easily. What was he going to do when he came face to face with the Ministry? The wheels in his head began turning as he tried to pull together an escape plan.

"Yes, Siobhan," Snape drawled. "Why can't Wesley leave?"

"Because he signed a contract." Siobhan stated and placed her hands on her waist.

Silence reigned as Snape glared darkly at Siobhan and her expression dared Snape to challenge her further.

He didn't understand, "What?"

She turned her attention back on him and scowled, "You signed a contract when you took this job. A very legal and binding contract if I may remind you. You can't abandon your job halfway through. I may have to take it to court if you did."

Snape opened his mouth to protest more but shut it and looked away in anger.

"Why are you willing to keep me here?" Harry demanded.

"Your professional reputation," she held her head up just a little bit higher. "Out of the few in your line of work, you are the best. As an entrepreneur myself, it's only right that I afford you the same professional courtesy that others do."

Over Siobhan's shoulder, he could see his former teacher's long-suffered look. The older man barely said more than a word since the conversation began, but Snape's opinions were easily found in his expression. In fact, it was that same expression that Snape wore when Dumbledore subtly bullied him into being involved with Harry in any way.

Harry looked down, "I can't refuse."

"Cedric," she sighed as she stepped towards him. Harry drew back because he couldn't trust himself not to harm her. "Can you tell me what's wrong? I would like to help if possible."

Snape snorted and she shot a glare over her shoulder.

"You can't help me," Harry replied weakly. "No one can. This is something I have to deal with on my own."

Siobhan sighed loudly again. She reached into her robes and drew his wand and dagger out. "Here," she carefully pressed the two objects into Harry's numb hands.

"How can you trust me like this?"

"Because I just can," She turned on her heels, but before leaving the room, she said, "You should change or you'll catch a cold."

Harry looked down to find he was dripping onto an antique-looking Ottoman rug. As he scrambled off of it, he wondered why Siobhan hadn't said anything before. In fact, he couldn't remember seeing this in the library the last time he was in here. It must have been placed in the room recently.

Harry stared at the door Siobhan had exited through. "How can she do that?"

Snape stepped up next to Harry and grunted, "She had the fortunate benefit of escaping this family and castle early on."

Harry peered at Snape out of the corner of his eye, "Are you going to let her do this and let me stay?"

"I have no choice." the corner of Snape's lip twitched in irritation. "No matter how much I disagree with her and I do, Siobhan always has the final say." Snape turned to face Harry and leveled his wand with Harry's face.

"What are you going to do?" Harry stepped back and brought up his wand.

"Down, Wesley," Snape snapped as he took another step toward Harry. "I was simply going to perform the countercurse."

"Oh…"

Snape's scowl suddenly deepened, emphasizing his frown lines. He passed his wand down the length of Harry's body and back up. "It's gone."

"Gone?"

Snape narrowed his eyes. "You've already thrown off the curse." Harry opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by Snape. "Where did you attend school?"

"Durmstrang." Harry muttered.

"I see…" Snape turned and stormed out of the room.

...

The next day, Shavonne couldn't get out of bed. She was sick, and Severus was left without an assistant in the labs. He was both livid and worried. Yes, he was worried that his cousin was sick, but he was so close to making a break-through with the new Wolfsbane potion. He didn't particularly care for Lupin's cure or recovery, but the personal standards he set for himself demanded that he succeed. He couldn't do it alone, though. He needed someone to at least take over the more menial tasks in the lab, such a cutting ingredients and cleaning cauldrons- even Sinclair or Jessica would have done at this point.

But Sinclair had gone to St. Mungo's to request a mediwitch home visit, and Jessica left early that morning for London to sort out some trouble that had arisen with her wedding robes. Siobhan was busy taking care of Shavonne, and Wesley was as useless as ever. The man, despite all his power- and Severus did admit to Wesley being a rather powerful wizard- couldn't even perform a simple healing spell if his life depended on it.

Siobhan wouldn't let anyone else into Shavonne's room because she was afraid the illness could be contagious. Severus felt he should be allowed on the contrary. Though medical potions were not his specialty, he did have basic mediwitchery training as a requisite of his potions mastery. Instead, he was pacing outside Shavonne's room, worrying over both his youngest cousin and his research.

He looked toward the closed doors again. That was it. He made up his mind. He turned, stalked down the hallway to Wesley's door, and knocked swiftly against the wood of the door. He waited for Wesley to invite him in. Seconds later, he knocked on the door again in a more irritated fashion but received still no answer.

The doors didn't resist him when he pushed them open. He marched into the quarters with a myriad of putdowns at the tip of his impatient tongue but stopped dead when he saw Wesley asleep on the sofa. His footfall was quiet as he approached the sleeping figure. A book- a volume that Severus recognized from the library- was open on his stomach. Wesley's arm was thrown over his face, but Severus could still hear Wesley snoring quietly.

Severus took the book out of Wesley's other limp hand. It was a tome on inherited blood curses and it was open to the chapter on vampires. He scoffed and tossed the book onto the table on the side.

"Wesley," Severus barked as he kicked the side of the sofa. Wesley just mumbled something inaudible and rolled over.

Severus recognized the hideous sofa that once sat in the rooms once belonging to his great-great aunt Cesare. If he remembered correctly, it had the particular quirk of throwing its occupant off when someone kicked the front leg toward the right. He couldn't silence that slightly mischievous notion in his head. "Detention. Report to my office after dinner." He barked and delivered a swift kick to the aforementioned leg.

The sofa bulked and sent Wesley tumbling off the edge. The younger man gave a loud yelp as he was awakened. Wesley looked around and then up at Severus with bleary eyes. "But Professor, I was just napping! You didn't have to toss me like that! Is it a crime to sleep in the library now?"

Severus could tell the man wasn't fully awake yet. The tone that Wesley spoke with was familiar though, and it called forth a memory that teased at the corner of his mind. He pushed the feeling aside. Wesley's reaction was strange, but this must have been a common scenario when Wesley was a student himself. He couldn't imagine anyone being able to address a professor at Durmstrang in this manner. However, Severus was intrigued. "I suggest you get to it."

"Lessons tonight again, Professor?" Wesley rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "Are you sure you can't convince Du-" Wesley stopped when his clear gray eyes fell on Severus towering over him. He watched Wesley's Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed nervously. "What can I do to help you, Professor?"

Severus straightened his posture. It appeared that Wesley did not want to talk about the little incident from before but no matter, "I require your assistance in the laboratory. Though Shavonne's illness worries me, I cannot put my work on hold for much longer."

"But I'm not good at potions," Wesley protested. Wesley's current resemblance to some of Severus' students were grating on the nerves.

"Those Doxies seem to indicate that you are possessing of some instruction in the art of brewing." Severus raised a questioning eyebrow.

Wesley looked away. "I took potions for seven years in school…"

"That will suffice," Severus turned and headed for the door. "You will assist me with the more simple and tedious tasks. I expect you to come down to my laboratory as soon as you have recomposed yourself."

When he was exiting the room, he heard Wesley break into a coughing fit behind him. Severus frowned. The dolt had caught a cold just as Siobhan had warned him. He noted to dig up a potion for the younger man, lest he go spreading his germs to Shavonne or all over Severus' equipment and potions.

...

Harry ran a hand through his unruly hair. He had been that close to blowing his cover. Then again, he didn't think Snape was just going to come barging into the room like that without knocking. He stopped and leaned against the door when a coughing fit racked his chest. He had developed a bit of a cold after walking in the rain the previous day, but thankfully it was nothing serious. He straightened his shirt again before knocking on the laboratory doors. Unlike Snape, Harry had some manners.

The door swung open in an outwards fashion and nearly nailed Harry in the forehead. Snape was bent over a steaming cauldron. The older man didn't look up when he spat, "About time, Wesley."

Harry walked into the room with his arms crossed over his chest. "I'm the one doing a favor for you here."

Snape stirred the potion three times in a clockwise direction before answering, "And if I recall correctly, I am the one paying your salary, room, and board."

Harry smirked. This was familiar territory now. "Bullocks, you're not paying me a Knut. Siobhan is the one that contracted me. This is all coming out of her pockets, isn't it? Guess teaching really doesn't pay that much," he shouldn't have said what he said next but it was as if he had no control over his mouth. "Then again, Siobhan doesn't have a Death Eater label hanging over her head. Why I'm surprised-"

" _Enough_!"

A glass vial filled with some type of rust red potion just missed Harry's face by centimeters. It hit the door behind Harry. Harry whipped around in time to see it literally explode against the wood, leaving behind a smoking scorch mark.

"Merlin's balls! Are you trying to kill me?" Harry exclaimed and turned around to glare at his former professor.

The man was bent over his cauldron with that ugly sneer drawn back to show his crooked teeth- an expression that Harry had seen quite a number of times in the past. His hands were digging into the edge of the work table like claws. Snape was livid. Harry knew he had gone too far then.

Snape turned to face him fully. His chest rose and fell with breaths of palpable rage. "I suppose I would just be returning the favor then. Get out! Don't talk about things you don't know about."

Harry stood his ground because he knew from experience it would only get worse if he left the room and allowed Snape to stew over it. Harry knew he had wronged the man with his words, and he felt like a bloody idiot for doing so. It was best to stand his ground and let Snape try to hex him even. Anything was better than Harry running and leaving Snape with this gaping wound. Sod it, must have been his conscience speaking there. His eyes moved downwards to the stone floor. "I'm sorry, Professor. I had no right to say that."

"You're bloody damn right about that. You don't think I had to pay for my mistakes?"

Harry knew from the sound of the brisk footfall that Snape was approaching him. His grip tightened on his wand. Just because he wasn't going to hex back if Snape attacked, it didn't mean he wasn't planning to at least defend himself. He really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut sometimes. Damn Snape for always bringing out the worst in him. He knew Snape had done his part for the war. He was there. What on earth possessed him to completely disregard that and let his mouth flap away without censure?

"I worked long and hard to redeem for my sins, and I have still yet to achieve that redemption. I'm forced to teach those insolent brats, a majority of which will never appreciate the subtleties of my art. I have tried my best to act as a father figure for Sinclair and Shavonne- especially Shavonne- since their blood father passed away. I have worked so that Siobhan would have all the opportunities she deserves. I always repay my debts, whether it's to Albus or to that infernal Potter. Now get out of my laboratory, Wesley. I cannot be held responsible if you stay." Snape's shadow eclipsed Harry.

Harry swallowed and looked up into Snape's dark eyes. "I repay my debts too. There's someone I owe my life to time and time again, and I haven't repaid him properly yet either, not by a long shot."

For the first time, Snape asked the question Harry felt his former professor should have asked from the very beginning, "Who are you?"

Harry's gaze slid over to the side and landed on the glass tank where the three Doxies were flying about. Snape had constructed the inside to imitate the creatures' natural habitat. Yet the Doxies were still ramming into the glass walls in an attempt to escape their glass prisons. "Just a nobody trapped in a farce."

Snape's eyes followed the path of his gaze. They watched the flutter of black wings together for a few silent but surprisingly non-awkward moments.

...

Severus would never admit it aloud, but Wesley was a surprisingly proficient assistant. The man had a steady hand with a knife, despite the uneven cuts. Then again, that pretty silver dagger strapped to Wesley's waist wasn't for decoration's sake.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, he found himself genuinely intrigued by another person. With Siobhan, there was no need to know her. He had known her all his life. With Lucius Malfoy, it had been a brief and fatal curiosity. With Potter, Black, and Lupin, all inquires was meant to achieve of the ends of revenge. With the Dark Lord, He was just a means to achieving an end. The Dark Arts had been intriguing in his youth but never before a living, breathing human being. Never before had he ever wanted to divulge so deeply into the mind, heart, soul, life, past, present, and future of a fellow man. Yet Cedric Wesley made him feel this way with those gray eyes trying to hide desperate secrets from the world under a thin disguise. Severus knew it would only be a matter of time before Wesley revealed himself.

He walked over to where Wesley was slicing the wormwood. "Thinner."

Wesley immediately adjusted his grip on the knife and did so. "Like this?" The younger man turned around and looked up at him.

This was his chance. Maintaining eye contact with the younger man, Severus dove into Wesley's mind. Severus only saw one image- Lupin- before Wesley forced him out of his mind. All the more interesting, Wesley knew Occlumency.

Wesley's arms flung out angrily and knocked Severus back. "How dare you!" the younger man snarled. It reminded Severus of the murderous expression Wesley wore when he tried to kill Lupin. "That was just low, filthy, and underhanded."

"I am a Slytherin." Severus stepped back and away from Wesley.

"Don't I know it," Wesley reached up and rubbed his temples. "Don't ever try that shit on me again! I _will_ hex you next time you do." It was strange. Wesley seemed resigned to accept his attack. It only made the man more of an enigma to Severus.

"Why did you try to kill Lupin?"

Wesley looked away in obvious shame. "He was a werewolf. I couldn't help it. It just seemed natural. It felt like the right thing to do."

"Vigilante justice is not appreciated by the Ministry. The Hunters are a long-dead tradition and you would do well to remember that."

Wesley stopped chopping and stared at him with wide eyes. "You think I'm a Hunter? You think I'm doing all this out of some twisted sense of righteousness?"

"You yourself said it felt like 'the right thing to do'." Severus crossed his arms over his chest.

Wesley dropped his gaze. "I didn't mean it like that. It was just instincts. It's different out east… The Romanian magical government is far worse off than their Muggle counterpart, it's hard to say if that can even be called a government. Villagers could only hire people like me to rid them of their problems. And I…thought…you might have been in danger…"

Severus snorted. He hadn't been afraid of Lupin since he left school. He learned that there were far more frightening things in the world, none of which were Dark creatures. "Lupin just came to pick up his potion. I would normally have delivered it to him myself but my current research proved to be more demanding of my attention."

With those words, he moved back over to the cauldron and sprinkled in the crushed wolfsbane. The potion turned clear as water. Things were moving along at least. It hadn't exploded- yet.

Wesley spoke up after another few minutes of silence. "Why are you trying to recreate the Wolfsbane potion anyway?"

Severus picked up a stalk of wolfsbane flower- the yellow flower was almost sickly in color. He turned and handed it to Wesley. "Can you tell me what this is?"

"Wolfsbane," Wesley replied very quietly as he took the flower.

"Can you tell me its effect on werewolves?"

"It will kill a werewolf, human form or not, if ingested. Any oil made with a wolfsbane base is fatal when it comes in contact with a werewolf's skin," Wesley was caressing the flower as he spoke.

Severus nodded. No one could accuse Wesley of not being knowledgeable of his profession. "Have you ever wondered why a plant so deadly to werewolves would be the main component of the base for a potion that helps to regulate lycanthropes?"

Wesley looked up in surprise as if that was the first time he had ever given such a thought any consideration. Why wasn't Severus surprised?

"You neutralize the poisonous characteristics of wolfsbane with the other ingredients in the potion?"

Severus smirked. Wesley was like one of his students all over again. "Exactly. However, we have recently discovered that the wolfsbane in the potion builds up in the joints. Though the residue remains dormant on the most part, certain spells considered Dark Arts can activate the poisonous attributes of the wolfsbane. Lupin was unfortunate enough to suffer a few rounds of Cruciatus in the final battle. There is no way to purge that residue from the body. Lupin already suffers from what appears to be the first stage of the residual poisoning, he is paralyzed from the waist down. If this continues, the poison is most likely to spread throughout his central nervous system, eventually force his brain to shut down, and kill him."

Severus noticed that Wesley was clutching the flower so tightly that he was crushing it. He chose not to point out that fact to the younger man. "You're trying to save him. But…"

Severus snorted and glanced at his experimental potion out of the corner of his eye. "Yes, 'try' being the operative word. Make no mistake, I hold no hidden affections for Remus Lupin, but my family has an inexplicable attachment to that beast."

Wesley swallowed and placed the crushed flower back on the worktable counter. His gaze moved up to meet Severus' and smiled in a rather shaky manner. "And whatever professional pride you have won't let you give up or fail. Let's get back to work then. Time is of the essence after all."


	7. Illness

The mattress weighed down with the added load of Severus sitting on Shavonne's bed. His cousin looked up at him with tired eyes but not feverish ones. He hesitated but reached out to card his hand through her silky hair- nothing like his- once before pulling back away. He allowed himself to bestow that one rare affectionate touch onto his cousin who, at times, seemed more like a daughter he would never have.

Even when he withdrew his hand, she chased after him- threading her fingers through his and clutching his hand tightly. Severus felt his heart clench when he felt just how cold her hands were.

"How did you do without me today?" She asked as she idly toyed with his hand as she often did as a child. Her other hand reaching up to scratch some itch on her neck.

"Better than you would have expected. Wesley isn't completely hopeless." He muttered.

She laughed softly. It was that laughter that reminded him why she had so many suitors and admirers. "Yes, that would be Mère's and Sinclair's job. How did Mère or Sinclair ever pass potions at school?"

He raised a questioning eyebrow. "Does it come as any surprise? They both attended Beauxbatons."

He felt a weak smack against his arm. She pouted. "I'm insulted. I attended Beauxbatons too."

He smirked. "You also have the extra benefits of my tutelage and knowledge at your service."

She shifted on the bedding until her head was resting in his lap. It wasn't something that he allowed her to do often, only when she was ill. He feared he might have spoiled her with his occasional affections. She didn't even ask anymore. Looking down at her, he saw more and more of her blood father in her- even though he had never known the man that well before his unfortunate passing away.

"How is Remus?"

Severus felt his lips thin out in a line at her question. Sinclair and Shavonne had becoming excessively fond of Lupin when Albus sent the werewolf to recover in France after the final battle. It was Shavonne who began the ambitious project to save Lupin. At one point, he could no longer watch her suffer and despair over her failed attempts. She had never begged for him to help, but he offered it. It had taken almost three years to find the source of Lupin's degenerative state and has been another year of failed attempts to cure it afterwards.

"Lupin is dealing. The poison appears to have slowed down in the meanwhile." His other hand reached down to cradle their entwined hands.

"But he won't stay that way…it's just going to get worse, isn't it?"

"Most likely so."

They sat in companionable silence for a few more minutes. She continued to toy with his fingers much like the way she did when she was a child. He remembered she had said his hands were "interesting" some years back. Shavonne had been born after Voldemort's first rising, but had lived through the second war as a young child. She had been nine when he cut off all communication with Siobhan and the children because of his role in the Voldemort's second rising.

"Draco is coming to visit soon," he hoped that would lift her mood a bit. "The students are taking their N.E.W.T.s this week."

A smile lit her pale face. "I can't wait. I haven't seen him since Christmas."

"If only you would stop flirting with Wesley and wed Draco, your mother would be ecstatic." It should have dismayed him to find himself chastising her in such a paternal fashion.

"And what about you?" she asked so quietly that he barely heard the question. "Mère would love it if you brought someone home."

He snorted. "Shavonne, you of all people should know that I'm not the sort of person fit for love."

 _Or happiness_ , he added silently to himself.

"But that doesn't mean you don't deserve it," her hand tightened around his. "You're perfectly capable of love. You love me, Sinclair, and Mère."

"You are family, Shavonne. You're blood and my heirs," He suddenly found the arbitrary pattern scratched into Shavonne's door utterly fascinating. "Thus, it is my obligation to care for you."

She opened her mouth to speak again and most likely to repute him when a knock sounded against the door. "Come in," Shavonne's melodious voice rang out.

The door creaked open. Severus made a note to ask Moppy to oil the hinges later. Wesley backed into the room, carefully cradling a steaming bowl of broth. Severus immediately wondered where Moppy was and why the elf hadn't been the one to deliver. He watched as Wesley made his way across the room to set the bowl down on the nightstand the bedside. Wesley breathed a sigh of relief before turning to face them fully.

Severus suddenly realized that Shavonne's head was still on his lap. He quickly shifted under her and practically dumped her back onto the bed.

"Severus!" She exclaimed and rubbed her head.

Severus muttered a barely audible apology. He stood up and dusted off his robes. When he looked up, Wesley was glaring at him. "What are you staring at, Wesley?"

Wesley growled and pushed past him. He grabbed the bowl he had set down on the table and brought it over to Shavonne. Wesley suddenly turned his head away when he began coughing. The hot broth sloshed against the side of the bowl as his body trembled from the effort to suppress the cough.

"Watch it, you simpleton! You'll burn her," Severus snapped. "Or get her sick again."

Severus watched as Wesley helped to feed Shavonne the first few sips before handing the bowl over to her. Wesley then straightened and turned back to him. His gray eyes flashed with a familiar defiance. "As opposed to you, just dropping her like a stone? Don't tell me what to do, you insensitive prick."

"You would do well to speak to me with respect."

"I'm not one of your students that you can just cow into submission, Snape."

Severus was not going to back down in the face of this whelp of a man. The man inspired a kind of irritation in Severus that even some of his more dense students could not give rise to. Shavonne was looking at both of them with a desperate expression.

"Kindly sod off, Snape." Wesley snapped and stomped at the room.

Severus was livid as he stared at the door that just slammed shut. He was tempted to go after the man but what could Severus do except hex the man silly. It was a pleasant idea to entertain though.

"Severus, why do you let him get under your skin so?"

The question stunned Severus momentarily. Why did he let Wesley get to him? The man was a slight bit assuming but he was good at his job. He was a stronger wizard than Severus expected.

She reached up to scratch the side of her neck again until it was red and raw. He reached over and swatted her hand away gently, running a cool hand down the column of her neck to soothe whatever itch was irking her so.

"Don't do that," he reprimanded gently. "And as for Wesley, I just don't trust him."

His hand lingered on the pale length of her throat, stilling when he caught the faded signs of a bruise. He felt two small bumps, like the remains of an insect bite or two. He was about to lean in closer to investigate when she spoke and his previous train of thought derailed completely.

"That's just the paranoia speaking," she said as she smothered her laughter. "Cedric's a bit quirky but all wizards are."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "And Draco?"

"Draco's perfect in every way!" Shavonne protested and the conversation was successfully diverted away from one Cedric Remius Wesley.

...

Harry raised his hand to knock on the door of Snape's lab. His fist stopped just short of the wood and he realized his hand was trembling. He jerked his hand back and smoothed out his shirt with his shaking hand. He resisted the urge to bang his head against the door and leaned his flushed face against the wood instead. He was falling apart.

His curse had become harder to control since Remus was in the castle. What little he could offer to placate the curse had been insufficient so far. It was why Harry was down here in the first place. He needed some task to keep him busy enough so he could just ignore the curse's raving. Yet some part of him feared he was down here for a very different reason.

Closing his eyes, he could feel Snape's presence beyond the door. It was like a rich and heavy waft of smoke that gave Harry a heady feeling and it made him salivate. He would be lying if he didn't admit his curse was attracted to Snape and wanted to devour his life most of all. Expanding his senses to the rest of the castle, he encountered the gentle and warm perfumed breeze that was Siobhan. Sinclair reminded Harry of the firm earth beneath his feet and the other man smelled of fertile soils and newly planted beds of flowers. There was Jessica and her presence which was not quite like ice or water but refreshing all the same. Finally there was Shavonne, who had always been like a bolt of lightning but her illness made her little more than a spark. Harry frowned at this. Though Shavonne was sick, her life essence shouldn't have changed this drastically- as if someone had taken part of her life.

His thoughts were interrupted when the door opened into the laboratory. Caught off his guard, Harry stumbled forward and collided with a firm body. He almost flushed at the thought. The arms Harry expected to steady him never came, and he bounced back and fell to the floor. He looked up and watched as Snape loomed in the doorway with arms crossed over his chest.

"A little help would be nice," Harry said.

Snape just sneered unpleasantly. "What do you want, Wesley? You've been standing in my doorway for the last five minutes now."

Harry raged silently and pulled himself to his feet. Out of spite, Harry slowly dusted off his clothes as Snape waited impatiently for his answer. "What? I can't just visit?"

Snape's expression darkened. "Don't be petulant, Wesley."

Harry sighed. He knew that Snape was never going to make anything easy for him. "I'm sorry for disrespecting you in front of Shavonne before, Professor, but you still shouldn't have dropped her like that."

"Do you have anything of importance to say? If not, kindly remove yourself from my presence. I'm agitated enough as it is." Snape stepped back and his hand moved to slam the door in Harry's face.

Harry stuck his foot into doorway and cursed when the door slammed into his foot.

"Begone, Wesley. I want nothing more to do with you."

"And crushing my foot will help how?"

"I can sever that foot if it will expedite the process."

Harry pressed his weight against the door to relieve some of the pressure on his foot. "I came down here to offer you a temporary truce so I can help you with your potions."

The door suddenly fell open again and Harry stumbled into Snape. Snape reached up and steadied Harry by laying his hands on Harry's elbows at the same time Harry planted his hands on Snape's chest. Leaning against Snape, Harry could smell the familiar scent of sage and the even headier scent of Snape's presence. His hands curled and fisted Snape's shirt.

"Why would I want a clumsy oaf like you in my labs?" Snape's chest rumbled as he spoke and Harry leaned in just a bit closer.

Harry's mouth suddenly went dry. He opened his mouth to reply but found the words lodged in his throat instead. He licked his lips. "I have a firm and steady hand."

Snape's hand caught Harry's wrist and raised it to eye-level. Harry was entranced by the contrast of his pale wrist wrapped between Snape's yellow-stained fingers. "Yet you can't stand still on your own two feet."

Harry pushed at Snape's chest and tore his hand from the man's grip. He shook his head and took a deep breath. "Sod off. Are you going to let me in or not?"

Snape grunted and turned away. He left the door open as he returned to his work area. Harry took that as a silent invitation into the lab and followed. He tried his best to ignore the inexplicable warmth welling in the pit of his stomach.

Harry stormed up the winding stairs. Severus Snape was truly the pettiest man he had ever had the displeasure of meeting. He was thrown out of the lab not even half an hour after he had been given entrance. They had gotten into an argument over the pounding versus the grinding of bat wings that quickly devolved into a contest of personal insults. After seven years of potion classes with Snape, Harry wasn't going to take Snape's unnecessary criticism without retaliation.

Harry had to admit it was satisfying to see Snape's face turn that shade of purple that reminded him so much of Uncle Vernon. He wondered why he hadn't done that in front of an audience before- like his seventh year N.E.W.T.s potion class. His mood darkened again as he recalled some of the less than flattering things Snape had said about him. He wasn't surprised that Snape could still tear him to pieces without knowing anything about him.

He grinned viciously as he slammed the door- knowing that the sound would echo down the winding stairs and throughout the empty corridors of the dungeon. He supposed the only thing to do now was go read in his rooms or the library.

Siobhan stuck her head into the hallway just as he passed the door to her workroom on his way to the foyer. "Oh, Cedric, good. May I have your assistance for a few minutes?"

He nodded and she stepped back to let him in. This was the first time Harry had seen the inside of Siobhan's workroom. To him, it was like a cross between a fabric store and a fashion studio in complete disarray. A large loom and a spinning wheel sat next to the window. There were several tables in the room but they were all buried underneath piles of fabric and parchment. More fabrics of all sorts of textures were leaning against any available space on the wall in tall rolls.

He snickered. "Wow, you're busy."

She gave him a thin smile. "The orders for the annual Midsummer Masquerade Formal held by the French Ministry have finally started to come in. This is our busiest time of the year. I not only have to make their outfits but design them as well."

Harry grimaced at the thought. He didn't even want to imagine how much work that entailed. "What about your apprentices?"

"They're working on the regular orders since I must be the one that designs." Siobhan walked over to one of the tables overflowing with parchment. "I'm sorry about this, Cedric. Normally, I would just have Moppy do this but he's watching Shavonne."

He followed her. "What do you need help with?"

"I just need you to sort out the parchments. I'm afraid I'm not a terribly organized person, certainly not like Severus. Most of it is rubbish and you can tell. Some of the designs are from years past and they're dated. I would appreciate it if you could help me separate them into different piles by years. Thank you, Cedric." She gave him a tired smile and he could see the slight bags under her eyes. She must be working really hard to make all these orders.

He found a stool and pulled it up to the table while she returned to her loom. They spent a few minutes working with only the sound of shuffling parchment and the click of the loom to fill the emptiness of the room.

"I heard the door slamming before. Did Severus say or do something again?" She asked casually and suddenly.

He glared darkly at the desk that was beginning to surface under the sea of parchment. "Snape was just being his normal self- an arse. Are you two really related?"

She chuckled but he thought it was sort of a sad sound, "As hard as it may be for you to believe, Severus and I are blood related. I am the younger sister of Severus' father, but my mother was Severus' grandfather's second wife," she smiled again but Harry could see it was a bitter one from where he sat. "Needless to say, there was a lot of tension in the family since I was over twenty years younger than Severus' father."

"If you're Snape's blood relative then why is-" Harry cut off the thought and looked away. "I'm sorry. It's none of my business."

The rhythmic clicking of the loom continued and he came to realize what a comforting sound it could be. "I don't mind talking about it. I decided to keep my maiden name when I married Paul 1. It was obvious that Severus was not going to settle down and have children of his own any time soon."

"The insufferable git is doomed to die alone." He mumbled.

She stopped and turned to pin him with a piercing glare. "Judge Severus as you will since I don't have any power over you, but you will not insult my nephew to my face. Life and this family has never been kind to Severus so I'll be damned if I begrudge him now."

"Why do you care so much about continuing the line then? Snape seems content with the idea of the line ending with him. From your tone just a moment ago, it doesn't seem like this family gave you a lot of good memories either." Harry reckoned the world might be better off with less Snapes.

She resumed her work before answering him. "No, I have never known Septimus to be a good man, even as a child. He abhorred me and when Severus was born, he would not have his heir be tainted by the likes of me- the spawn of a gold-digging French whore. He wouldn't have me at Hogwarts where I could influence Severus so Septimus sent me to Beauxbatons in France. I was only with Severus for the first four years of his life before I left for school and left him to the dubious mercy of Septimus."

He watched as she weaved a pattern into her loom. He could sense the strands of magic wrapped around each thread, and he realized that the strands of magic were being woven into even more intricate patterns under the threads. He admitted it was a fascinating process to watch. In fact, it was a lot like watching Snape when he was absorbed in his potions. He found himself smiling at the thought.

Her body swayed as she weaved. "This castle wasn't a place fit for raising children back then. Our once extended kinship network had long dried up and most of the family wealth was wasted even before it was passed onto my brother, who finally exhausted it. There was only a gloomy castle, quickly falling into disuse and filled with little more than Dark Artifacts. It was a sad place to live in as a child."

"Then why?" Harry asked.

Her voice suddenly took on a hushed and dreamy quality. Her magic wrapped around her entire body in delicate tendrils. "Why what? Why did I work so hard to take this back when the Ministry confiscated it some twenty years ago? Why did I insist on the family moving back to these haunted halls? Why did I insist that Severus return here? Because Severus has to face himself at some point. Because I want to make something better of this place. Because there was a reason my brother refused to sell this castle even though he fell so deeply into debt. This has been Snape land from the time we first settled here centuries ago. This castle must always remind in the hands of a Snape lest a plague befall us all."

Harry wondered if working at the loom had put Siobhan into a trance-like state. He shook his head and turned back to his task. As he organized the parchment into different piles, he took a few seconds to admire some of her designs.

Siobhan started talking again. "I only saw Severus during the summer holidays. When I finished my education at Beauxbatons, he had only finished his first year at Hogwarts. Septimus forbade me from taking a step back into this castle after that or even contacting Severus. I stayed in France and began my apprenticeship. I could only write to Severus during the school year. I really wish I could have been there for him. It wasn't fair that he had to suffer so much as a child. My leaving was a blessing for me but he never had that chance. And that James Potter and Sirius Black, Albus was right not to have let me near them or I would have made them both pay dearly for everything they've done." She finished with a snarl.

Harry fixed his eyes down on the parchment and tried to swallow the lump lodged in his throat.

...

"Don't you have somewhere to be, Wesley? Preferably somewhere far from here?" Severus didn't bother to look up when he heard the laboratory doors creak. He knew it was Wesley. Wesley was the only one who bothered to come down to the laboratory after Shavonne became ill.

"As welcoming as always," Wesley muttered as he sauntered over to Severus' side.

Severus didn't know why but Wesley had sought him out day after day. Each time, the younger man came with more questions than the time before under the pretense of helping Severus with his experiments, harassing Severus for details about Hogwarts, its teachers, and even its extensive network of alumnus by general association. These sessions they spent together rarely went over smoothly because he refused to answer Wesley. More often than not, it ended with Wesley storming out or Severus forcibly and almost violently removing Wesley from the lab. Just yesterday he had to threaten Wesley with the Aurors to remove the exterminator from his laboratory. The first few days they had spent with just each other in the castle had its share of acrid comments on both sides but it had never been this bad before. Severus wasn't sure why the situation had degenerated to that level.

"What do you want now?"

"Do you need help with anything?"

"What inane questions do you have to harass me with today? The sooner you ask, the sooner I can tell you to sod off and get my lab back to myself."

"I want to know about Harry Potter. You taught him, didn't you?"

He froze. He hadn't thought about Harry Potter in years now. In the first six months following the end of the war, Severus had been busy trying to prove his part in the Order and keep the Snape name clean. It was more for Siobhan, who had insisted on keeping her maiden name after marriage so their line would not die completely, for Sinclair, who was about to step out into the world on his own, and for Shavonne, who was just beginning her education at Beauxbatons at that time.

While Severus may not have cared much for Potter, the world around him went up in arms over the subject. The Boy Who Killed Voldemort had vanished in the chaos following the final battle. While the world lied in shambles, he had just picked up and left. He, at least, had the decency to attend one last meeting with the surviving members of the Order. The situation looked bleak at that time. Ron Weasley was dead. Remus Lupin was in Intensive Care at St. Mungo's and it was believed he would not survive the night at that point. Losses on their side were expected, but it was still heart-breaking for many.

The boy had taken advantage of the chaos and vanished with the sanction of the diminished Ministry that did survive the war. His case was even placed under the jurisdiction of the Department of Mysteries and Unspeakables did not speak freely under any circumstances. The Ministry thus had no choice but to swear not to search for Potter. Severus was almost tempted to call the move Slytherin.

Albus had tried to track down Potter, but the Ministry was unwilling to relinquish its greatest secret- not that many in the Ministry knew what had happened to Potter anyway. Severus wasn't too concerned with the issue. After all, he and Potter had never been close and they had worked at opposite ends of the war effort. After Potter finished Hogwarts, he and the boy had little contact outside of Order meetings, and Severus wouldn't have had it any other way.

"What brought about this bout of curiosity?"

"Well," Wesley shuffled his feet against the floor. "Doesn't everyone want to know about the Boy Who Lived?"

He found it strange to hear a slight note of derision as Wesley spat out Harry Potter's epithet. "The Man Who Lived," he corrected Wesley. "He would be a man now if he managed to miraculously survive to this day."

"Do you think he's still alive?"

"I don't know nor do I care, Wesley. Leave me in peace. You've already darkened the rest of my day with the mere thought of Harry Potter." He glared at the less-than-promising formula boiling in the cauldron he was stirring.

"You must have really hated him too." The other man muttered with a strange sort of conviction.

"Wrong. I am unfortunately in debt to that brat, but he is not here now. Why should I waste my time or energy hating someone that has no impact on my life? Potter has not been a concern of mine for many years now."

"Oh," Wesley seemed to be at a sudden loss.

It was silent for another minute as Severus continued to work on his potion. He hoped Wesley would just give up and go away. Somehow he doubted he would have such luck.

"Where do you think he is right now?"

He turned on Wesley and loomed over the other man. Though Severus wasn't an extremely tall man, he was still taller than Wesley and he had wondered before what was responsible for the blonde's slight form. Unwillingly, he remembered the shape of that thin wrist and the protruding bone that dug into the palm of his hand. "Cease harassing me with these impudent questions, Wesley. You've been wearing my patience for the four days and while you've been hovering about, I've completed little to no work. Begone."

"If you would just let me help," Wesley protested.

He snapped, "Perhaps if you'd only leave me be."

Wesley opened his mouth to say something more but stopped and clenched his jaws together. He was clenching and unclenching his fists at his side. Severus could only watch with disdain as Wesley struggled with whatever he was fighting with. Why did he keep wasting Severus' time like this? It couldn't be that this man actually enjoyed Severus' company because that thought was almost too disturbing to entertain.

"Merlin, you are such a hard-arsed prick." Wesley spat through his clenched teeth as he edged away from Severus.

He noted with interest that as he leaned forward just a bit, Wesley reacted by bending back. He recalled how Wesley seemed so averse to touch, but it was even stranger when compared to the intimacy he had witnessed between Wesley and that Abraham character. An amusing thought struck Severus.

Was Wesley gay?

He closed the distance between them and maneuvered around Wesley until he had the other man pinned against the worktable by planting both hands on either side of Wesley's body. He smirked as Wesley squirmed back and pressed back against the table. The blonde closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. When he reopened his eyes, Severus noticed how flushed Wesley's face had become.

Severus bent his head down and whispered, "Would you like to find out, Wesley? Is this why you've been coming down here day to day?"

Wesley's eyes widened in an almost impossible manner when he gasped, "What?" he dropped his head and sucked in a loud breath of air. "Get away from me, Snape, you have no idea what you're…"

"I'm what?" Severus raised an eyebrow as the devil danced gleefully on his shoulder. He wanted to scare Wesley away and this looked like it just might work. "Could it be that you fancy me?"

Wesley lifted his head again and Severus almost stepped back at what he saw. The unfamiliar but unbridled lust in Wesley's eyes was both Dark and frightening. Caught in the strange emotions of Wesley's eyes, he was unable to move as one of Wesley's hands reached up for his neck. The other hand was reaching back across the table behind him for something Severus couldn't see. The hand stopped in mid-air, just short of Severus' throat.

"Get away from me, Snape. Please." Wesley sounded so desperate. A strangled whimper escaped as he threw his head back to expose his long neck.

Severus' eyes were drawn to the pale column of smooth skin. He watched as Wesley's Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed and the skin over the suddenly inviting pulse point throb. His mouth went dry at the strangely erotic sight of Wesley writhing against his table.

When he didn't move- couldn't move- Wesley's hand fell to his chest instead and shoved him back. The younger man shot out of the room as Severus recovered his balance. He couldn't help but feel a bit slight bewildered. Something about that exchange had felt even more wrong than usual. He stared at the spot where he had cornered Wesley against and finally noticed the knife that the blonde had been reaching for all along.

...

A week had passed since Shavonne first became ill and she had recovered for the most part. She was allowed up and about as long as she didn't strain herself. She was still painfully pale, despite her naturally darker complexion, and her hands would randomly quake from fatigue. The visiting mediwitch assured them that Shavonne would recover fully but it would take time. Shavonne had a temporarily weakened immune system because she hadn't been taking care of herself. Severus had shaken his head at the diagnosis. Shavonne had been far too enthusiastic while working on Lupin's cure and neglected to care for herself.

The new furniture arrived in the meanwhile and the foyer became crowded as a result. Siobhan was busy directing Moppy on the set-up of the large dining room for the housewarming party in a few days. That left Sinclair, Jessica, and Wesley of doing all the grunt work of magically moving various pieces of furniture into various rooms around the castle.

Severus was spared of partaking in- or escaped would have been a better choice of words- the menial tasks by finalizing the plans and runes for that night's wardings. When he first left twenty years ago, he had dismantled most of the wards so some poor insipid Muggle wouldn't get the shock of his life for approaching the old castle. Then the castle had been confiscated by the British Ministry for a few weeks after Voldemort's first defeat and they had been sure to tear at every stone and bit of mortar. The fools had taken apart every ward to only find nothing. Siobhan had fought with everything she had to take back this old castle and the Ministry had no right to take it as it was fully under her name legally and not Severus'. Now it left them with the task of building new wards from the ground up.

The tip of his quill tapped idly against the top of the rune book spread open before him. The piece of parchment at his elbow was filled with occult symbols and runes for protection, wealth, health, happiness, and fertility. He snorted. The last category was more for the benefit of Sinclair, Jessica, and their upcoming nuptial. Jessica, soon be a member of the family, was expected to take part in the warding too.

What he didn't understand was why Wesley had to take part as well. Though Wesley's role as the Benefactor would be significantly different from any of the Snapes' and Jessica's, he felt there were far better choices than Wesley. He felt Draco was a perfectly viable option, but Siobhan had protested that she hoped for him to be family soon. There were plenty of licensed individuals that could have been hired for the role instead. To which, Siobhan simply used his own argument about money to refute him.

He frowned at the thought of how well Wesley had become ensconced in his family. Siobhan treated him like a little brother- like Severus. Sinclair was simply thrilled with the fact he finally had someone to discuss Quidditch with as none of the other Snapes or Jessica showed much enthusiasm for the sport. Jessica and Wesley already had the advantage of previous acquaintance that had now blossomed into a warm friendship. Both Sinclair and Jessica already expressed interest in having Wesley at their wedding. While Shavonne was no longer smitten with Wesley- and now that Severus thought about it, she never really was- she still flirted shamelessly with him.

At the same time, he noticed how Wesley still kept everyone at arm's length. The man kept any physical contact- accidental or intended- to an absolute minimum. Severus originally suspected that it was because the younger man was afraid of being hurt. As the weeks went by, Severus found it might be the opposite instead. Wesley was afraid of hurting others and it was only more apparent after the encounter with Lupin. This only strengthened Severus' distrust of Wesley.

Strangely enough, it was him that Wesley sought out the most. Since their biting verbal altercation in Severus' potion labs that first time, they continued to bicker pettily and hopelessly when they were in each others' presence. Severus got the sense that Wesley was desperately trying to cling to something familiar though he wasn't sure why arguing with him would be so.

After last week's "experiment," Severus knew exactly why. Wesley was literally fearful of human contact. It raised seemingly homicidal tendencies in the younger man. Was Wesley really that unstable? Had he been abused as a child or some other melodramatic tragedy? Why did Severus even care?

He shook his head to clear it. His thoughts were getting away from him.

Yet the fact remained, Severus still did not fully trust Wesley. The other man was obviously hiding something and it must be a deadly secret of some sort. Severus was going to find out if it was the last thing he did. He had not forgotten that darkness he glimpsed in Wesley some days ago. He wasn't going to allow Wesley to put his family in danger. With those thoughts in mind, he stood abruptly and dropped the quill onto the table. He strode down the hallway with purpose and stopped in front of the door to Wesley's temporary quarters.

The door resisted at Severus' first attempt to enter. It acquiesced though after a firm reprimand from him. Though he may have no legal ownership over the castle in the eyes of the Ministry, it knew its master by blood. Severus growled. Wesley had placed an intricate charm that discouraged people from entering the room when he was not in.

After Severus finally gained entrance into the room, he went straight for the chest sitting at the foot of the bed. The standard _Alohomora_ did not open the chest. Wesley had placed a number of strong locking charms and wards on the chest, all of which were probably keyed to the man's personal magical signature. The man was near paranoid in the guarding of his property and privacy. Severus decided to leave the chest alone for now.

A quick glance around the bare room confirmed that Wesley had only brought his trunk and left no papers or other sorts of clue lying around. Draped over the couch was the large overcoat Wesley had been wearing the night he discovered young Eliza's body in the road. Convinced there was nothing more to examine, he moved onto the bathroom.

If Severus recalled correctly, Wesley had specifically requested that he had access to a private bathroom or lavatory. In said bathroom, he found several empty potion vials lining the side of the sink. After carefully sniffing the vials, he determined they had held a standard Dreamless Sleep recipe easily attained at any apothecary. He placed the empty vials back in their original positions.

Another bottle, most likely more Muggle in origin than not, was leaning against the wall. Severus picked it up and examined the writing on the side of the plastic. It was a bottle of contact lens solution. He put it back down. He wasn't really sure what contact lenses were. He would ask Jessica later.

He found a plastic tube with the residue of some strange yellow cream in the bin. He summoned it out of the rubbish and squeezed a sample into one of the empty sample vials he always carried on his person. He would examine it later in his labs.

When he walked back into the main room, Severus finally realized why the coat draped over the sofa was so familiar. He stalked over to the sofa in front of the dead fireplace and snatched the coat up. He was right. It was his coat. It was the one Siobhan had just made for him last Christmas.

He clenched his fist. How did Wesley get his hand on his coat? It had been sitting in his closet last he saw. It could only mean that Wesley had gone into his room again.

But why?

...

Snape had been watching him closely all day. Harry could constantly feel the man's eyes on him, burning holes in his back. The older man's intense gaze inspired a heat that it shouldn't have. Snape was watching his every move as if he was just going to spin around any second and hex everyone into oblivion. Sometimes, Harry almost thought Snape was trying to devour him with his gaze alone. He could only try to ignore Snape's constant scrutiny.

After tea, he had a chance to sit down in the library and read up on his role in the warding. He remembered how vehemently Snape had protested against his presence at the ceremony. Harry was determined to show his former professor otherwise. He would outdo anyone Snape could have hired.

The most important characteristic of someone acting as the Guardian Benefactor was power. The more powerful the wizard or witch, the more successful and stronger the resulting wards would be. His only job was to act as an anchor for the magic. It led him to wonder briefly who had taken on this role when the Founders had warded Hogwarts.

The warding took place later that night at midnight. It was a warm summer night so the two doors were thrown open to let in the summer air. It had rained just hours earlier so the air was more humid than usual. Shavonne was leaning on Sinclair for support since she was still sick. Snape and Jessica were busy drawing the runes in salt and chalk on the on the bare stone floors of the foyer. Siobhan was creating the outer ward circle to contain the magic they would be performing. He stood on the sideline while rocking back and forth on the ball of his feet during preparation.

When Snape's aunt was done invoking necessary protections, she directed Harry into the center of the circle. The other members of the Snape family moved into their positions around the rune circle that would have equated to the five points of the pentagram. Snape flicked his wand about to redirect the globes of magical light into their proper places. Harry snorted. He still remembered what Snape had said about foolish wand-waving back in his first potions class.

Siobhan, as both the legal owner of the castle and the eldest surviving member of the Snape family, began the chant. Her wand, surprisingly springy, danced through the air weaving more runes in trails of magical white light. He shivered as he felt the power in the atmosphere jump considerably.

Warding was a bit different from ordinary wizardry. From what Harry had read, most witches and wizards nowadays didn't bother to perform the full warding on their homes, but only a modified and simplified version. The ritual was an intricate one that required a lot of both power and concentration. Usually only buildings and institutions of some importance to the public warranted a full ceremony these days, though some older families still preferred the old tradition.

Siobhan's smoky voice seemed to resonate through the clear summer's air. Harry felt distinct shifts in the earth beneath their feet as she invoked the spirits. Snape's silky tone soon joined his aunt's before it was followed by all but Harry's. He stood completely still in the center of the circle as each of the five Snapes, or soon-to-be-Snape in Jessica's case, poured their magic out and into him through the conduits of their wands.

Harry trembled slightly under the force of the magic. He had always known Snape was a wizard of immense strength, but Siobhan was definitely one not to be underestimated either. Surprisingly, Jessica was considerably stronger than either Sinclair or Shavonne, with Shavonne as the stronger of the two siblings. Harry drew all the power into this being and into the earth. He tried to concentrate on general feelings of protectiveness. It came fairly easy to Harry as he truly did like these people and cared for them as much as he could allow himself to.

Siobhan was building the foundation of the wards. Her magic acted as the principle building blocks but it was Snape, Sinclair, Jessica, and Shavonne that completed it. Their magic was the mortar that held the wards together, that strengthened and fortified what Siobhan laid.

They fell silent and Harry's turn began. Harry took a deep breath and began to evoke the four spirits of the cardinal directions and the seasons. When that was done, he invoked the center, the balance of the four that completed. That was also when the problem started.

To his dismay, he found he was no longer channeling the Snapes' magic but absorbing it. Looking up in panic, he could tell that only Snape, who was standing exactly opposite of him, had noticed something was amidst.

The curse within cried, _Not magic, not enough. Life! Lives!_

He could feel Snape tried to reign in all of their combined magic, to supplement for the control Harry had lost. The curse wouldn't be defeated so easily. It clung to the magic. Perhaps it thought- did it think?- draining all magic, life energy was sure to follow. He wrestled to expel the magic outwards, but it was to no avail. Harry was becoming frantic. His body ached with all the power coursing through it and into his reserve. This was all wrong. His vision began to darken and the world spun.

His mouth fell open in a silent scream. Snape was doing his best but it was no use. Harry directed all of his strength to fighting the curse. He had no choice but to channel everything out, including his own magic. He wrenched the magic out of the grip of the curse and threw it into the wards.

His world exploded in a burst of light and then darkness. And as Harry fell, he could hear the sound of that laughter he would never be able to forget echoing in his ears.


	8. The Intruder

Severus tried not to gnaw on his lower lip, knowing they were drawn into a taut line by then. The warding had been successful- very successful with the addition of Wesley's power to theirs. The only one who was suffering any aversive effect was Wesley, who was presumably still unconscious and passed out on his bed.

He was pacing back and forth across the library with his robes snapping around his ankles. Something about the experience had left him severely agitated, but he couldn't grasp the reason though. He did know one thing. Wesley's magic, the magic of a stranger, was now part of the wards of his family home. It might give Wesley some measure of power over the castle. Yet, that wasn't the reason for his agitation, even though it was a worrisome circumstance. It was entirely something else.

Why had Wesley lost control like that? It was not one of the risks inherent in the ritual like magical fatigue was. Severus was still trying to wrap his mind around how strong Wesley's magic was. Severus remembered how tempting that power had reached out to him when he tried to anchor Wesley. He had always known the man to be powerful- if the man's initial display of wandless magic was any indication- but not frighteningly so. A wizard of that kind of power simply did not just fade into anonymity to be hired out as an exterminator. There were too many people in the world that stood to benefit greatly from power like Wesley's.

The library door opened, and Siobhan and Jessica entered.

"Well?" He barked impatiently.

"Sinclair is watching Cedric right now." Siobhan was wringing her hands, a nervous habit he recognized from their childhood.

Severus knew he had to put his foot down now or never. "Wesley needs to go. This is the second time he's-"

"What?" Jessica screeched so loud that he couldn't help but wince. "You can't just turn him out like that. He doesn't have work lined up for at least another month!"

He looked at the young woman with an impassive expression. "Of course we can. Just pay the man the rest of what he was promised and send him on his merry way. In fact, he offered to leave without any pay."

She marched up to him and poked his chest with an index finger. "Look, I know you have problems with Cedric. Hell, I'm not blind. You two argue like cats and dogs or some old married couple," his mouth fell open to protest but she wouldn't give him the chance. "You get what I mean. I wasn't really implying anything but sometimes I can't help but wonder about you two."

He simply glared down at her. The nerve of her to imply such a thing! "Are you quite finished with whatever asinine and useless comment you have? Let us review the facts. As demonstrated just minutes ago, and time and time again before that, Wesley is unstable at his best and destructive at his worst. Need I remind you of the incident concerning Lupin and myself? Yes, he is a powerful wizard, but he has already lost control once before. He is dangerous and inherently Dark, Jessica. We don't know anything about his past and he refuses to share. How can we possibly trust a man like Wesley?"

"You mean a man like you?" Jessica hissed in return.

That was an unexpected blow to Severus. Even Siobhan looked shocked at how her future daughter-in-law had twisted the knife. Jessica didn't appear sorry for what she said for a second. She held her head high and back away only slightly to give Severus a little air. Indeed, Sinclair had chosen a strong woman for himself.

"I'm not going to take back what I said," she continued. "I just feel as if you're being unnecessarily cruel to Cedric. Cedric is a good man, and I know he would never do anything to put any of us in harm's way intentionally, not even you. So what if he keeps a few secrets? They can't possibly be any worse than what the whole world already knows about you. His professional reputation is on the line and he's the very best in his line of work."

Severus gritted his teeth. He agreed with her statement, but Wesley was becoming a liability at this point. "It needs not be his intentions. The man is simply too dangerous. The wards are now keyed to him as well."

He found it odd that Siobhan had remained silent through the entire conversation thus far. He knew the woman couldn't keep her mouth shut or withhold herself from expressing her opinions for too long. He looked over to his aunt, who appeared to be standing firmly in Jessica's corner.

Jessica threw her hands in the air. "So what? We're going to dismantle the wards and then redo them all over again? You said it yourself that the castle knows its owners by blood and marriage. Cedric has neither to any of us, so he has no true power over the castle."

"Jessica-"

She shook her head. "No, you listen, Severus. I respect you, I really do, as my soon-to-be cousin-in-law, as a wizard, and for everything you've done to help defeat the Dark Lord. But you are one of the most narrow-minded irrational hypocritical jackasses I have ever met. I've known Cedric for longer than you have, maybe not so well at first but that's besides the point. Just give him a chance, dammit. I'll talk to him. I'll find out what's up and help him."

Severus observed the stubborn set of her chin. Glancing at Siobhan's smug grin over her shoulders, he knew he had lost the argument almost before it had even begun.

He sighed, "If you had attended Hogwarts, I do believe you would have been Sorted into Hufflepuff."

Siobhan doubled over in laughter. At Jessica's confused expression, his aunt simply stated, "Just take that as a compliment of your unfaltering loyalty, chérie," and with a twinkle far too akin to Albus', she added, "I don't know, Severus. I think our dear Jessica would make a fantastic Gryffindor."

"How appropriately ironic that I should live out my life with those that irk me the most, surrounded by Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs," Severus drawled. He observed the achingly empty shelves of the library for a few moments before he remembered his investigation of Wesley's room earlier. "Jessica, perhaps you would care to enlighten me on what contact lens solution is?"

...

When Harry regained consciousness sometime late in the afternoon the next day, the first thing that hit him was how much his eyes itched. He tried to recall the blurry circumstances around what had happened- why he felt so lethargic. He rolled out of bed and headed straight for the bathroom. After promptly relieving himself in the toilet and washing his hands, he removed the contact lenses and tossed the pair into the bin. He would need to dig up the box somewhere in his trunk for a new pair.

Harry rubbed his eyes. They were red and bloodshot. It was strange to see his green eyes again. He always avoided looking into the mirror when he could, especially when he wasn't wearing his contacts. For one, everything was just a horrible blur of colors. It was always the green of his eyes that stuck out the most.

He sighed and dragged himself back into his bedroom. His entire body stilled ached from last night. It was a numb sort of pain. He stopped dead when he spotted Jessica holding a tray of food.

Jessica set the food down on the table they had just moved into the room the day before. "You must be starving. Moppy made something quick for you. I wanted to see how you were feeling," Jessica froze when she looked up at Harry. "Cedric, your eyes…they're green…"

Harry's thoughts began racing a mile a minute. Jessica now knew his true eye color. Fine, but his disguise wasn't compromised yet. It was just a minor detail Jessica would never need to repeat to anyone. He could be changing his eye color for vanity's sake for all she knew. He just had to convince her of that fact.

He kept his tone nonchalant as he approached the food. "I forgot how itchy it is sleep with contacts."

"Colored contacts?" she inquired. He nodded and sat down at the table while she took the seat across from him and continued. "Yeah, contacts can be annoying, but they're the better alternative compared to potions and spells. The spells are prone to malfunction since they need very specific fine-tuning and the potions! I don't even want to think about the price on some of them! None of them are permanent anyway. You might as well get laser eye surgery."

Harry chuckled. "Funny, isn't it? How we can re-grow bones but still can't cure simple near-sightedness?"

"No one ever claimed you European wizards were a sensible bunch." Jessica teased.

"And you Yanks are?" He raised an eyebrow and resisted the urge to poke her across the table.

"I would hope so! At least we're not still stuck in the Victorian ages," she reached over and nicked one of the bangers off his plate. "And don't do that eyebrow thing. You look like Severus and one of His Grumpiness is more than enough."

Harry felt the good mood bleed out of him at the mention of Snape. His former professor must be furious at him, just because it was the sort of illogical thing that Snape would get upset over. Though he hadn't meant to, he had slipped up yet again. "I reckon the professor's mad about the warding."

"Mad? Furious was more like it. He was ready to kick you out." She toyed idly with the silver cross pendant around her neck.

"Guess I should be glad my trunk's packed already."

"Please, Severus was just being a bully last night. You're not going anywhere until you finish your job and if I had it my way, until after my wedding. Siobhan's your employer, not Severus. She happened to like the case I presented more than Severus'," A deeper concern soon became apparent in her expression. "I am worried though. Is there something you should tell us? Is there something I can help with?"

"It's nothing you need to worry about," He stared at his plate. "I'll leave on my own if something becomes a problem."

"I'm worried for _you_." She said.

"Once again, no need. Once this job is finished, I'll be gone and Snape and you will never have to worry about me again." He looked up and smiled sadly.

"You and Severus seem so much more alike than you would think. Or maybe it's just arrogance on my part for thinking I know either of you two that well. You both claim to act out of mere obligation, but I know that some part of you two is genuinely fond of the rest of us." She shook her head sadly.

Harry wasn't sure how to answer her so he chose not to. He didn't realize exactly how hungry he was until he took his first bite. He focused his attention on the food instead and they sat together in silence.

"You should think about getting just regular contacts," she suddenly declared. "You have really pretty eyes and you shouldn't hide them."

He thought it to be wiser not to reply.

...

Harry ran a hand through his unruly blond hair. This was probably a bad idea. Maybe he should have politely refused and spent a night in his room sorting through all those owls he had been receiving recently. He needed to line up jobs for when his task at Snape Castle was done. The housewarming party was due to begin any moment with the arrival of the first guest.

Instead, he diverted his attention to how Siobhan had decorated the large dining room. To a side was a long table filled with appetizers and punch. Harry imagined the room had been restored to much of its former glory before falling into disuse. He tightly gripped the glass of champagne Sinclair had shoved in his hand.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when the first guest came tumbling out of the fireplace. Siobhan was upon the guest in an instant. Harry was just glad it wasn't anyone he knew. The first few guests to arrive were all Siobhan, Sinclair, and Shavonne's friends from France. Harry almost felt himself relax as he spotted Snape hiding and sulking in some dark corner.

About fifteen minutes later, the first of Snape's Hogwarts co-workers arrived. It was Professor Sinistra. The woman exchanged a brief but warmth-filled hug with Siobhan before heading straight for Snape. Sinistra was followed by Flitwick and Pomfrey. Hagrid came in through the front entrance with Hooch. He must have missed seeing Dumbledore and McGonagall come in but saw them in the crowd later on. Harry was careful to avoid more than a few words of greeting with his former professors if he could.

Soon the room was filled with party guests. Siobhan was entertaining a circle of friends and business acquaintances. Sinclair and Jessica were talking to well-wishers about their upcoming wedding. Snape hadn't been seen for a while. Shavonne had been surrounded by enthusiastic friends (many whom are fellow recent graduates of Beauxbaxtons), but she tired quickly due to her illness. He was sitting with her so she wouldn't be completely bored.

While she seemed to be recovering the last few days, she began regressing all of a sudden in the last day. She was even weaker than when she first was sick. Yet she didn't want to miss any party for the world so Siobhan and everyone else had simply insisted she dare not exhaust herself. She was also scratching the side of her neck constantly, despite everyone else's reprimand not to do so, until an angry red rash that was impervious to even the strongest of cosmetic spells and harshest of ointments developed. She finally resigned herself to wrapping a thin silk scarf around her neck to hide it from view.

Harry nearly choked on an appetizer when Malfoy stepped out of the fireplace with an arm around Hermione's shoulder. Shavonne, who had been leaning slightly against him, looked up at him in surprise when he coughed. She followed his line of sight to the new arrivals through the Floo. Harry watched as all signs of fatigue seemed to melt away and a vibrant red started to overtake her cheeks again. She was once again looked like that vivacious girl he had first met that strange morning.

"Draco!"

Malfoy let go of Hermione. He spoke a few quiet words to her and bowed to Siobhan before making his way over to where Harry and Shavonne were. Harry swallowed back that nervous lump in his throat. There was no way Malfoy would know who he really was. Malfoy would always be a bit taller than him. The man still walked with the same arrogant grace he did in his school days, which was eternally ironic to Harry because Malfoy had been disowned after taking side with the Light.

Shavonne offered a hand, which Malfoy took gently and kissed the back of. His silver gray eyes were bright in a way Harry had never witnessed before though. "Severus told me you were ill. Really, Shavonne, you need to learn how to care for yourself."

Shavonne laughed in such a way that her entire face lit up. "Now why would I need to do that when I have men like Père, Sinclair, Cedric, and you to worry about me?"

Malfoy rested his gaze on Harry. "Who is this gentleman?" he drawled.

Harry squared his shoulders and sat up straighter. He had never been intimidated by Malfoy and he certainly wasn't going to start now. "Cedric Remius Wesley, exterminator at your service." Harry extended a hand. He didn't expect Malfoy to actually take it.

"Ah, so you're the dunderhead Severus has been mumbling so much about lately," Malfoy gripped Harry's hand in a firm handshake. "It's always a pleasure to meet anyone who can irk Severus like that."

A smirk tugged at the corner of Harry's lip. "It doesn't appear to be a talent lacking in those of his company."

Malfoy actually burst into laughter. "With a tongue like that, it's no wonder Severus talks about you all the time. I can't remember the last time since Harry Potter that he's been so pre-occupied with trying to enumerate a person's flaws."

Harry's heart leaped into his throat at Malfoy's declaration. He knew there was no hidden intent behind the other man's words, but it did make his heart skip a second there. He could have kissed Shavonne when she insisted that Malfoy take her somewhere private where they could catch up. He exhaled loudly and relaxed when they were gone.

"You shouldn't believe everything you hear. Draco Malfoy's a better person than one would think."

Harry didn't know how much more his heart could take talking to these people who used to be a part of his life and he theirs. He knew instantly it was Remus when the curse jumped to life. He wrestled with it briefly before coaxing it into a hesitant dormancy.

"I can see it," he mumbled quietly. He had come to learn and know that unwillingly since the beginning days of the war.

"We haven't been formally introduced. I'm Remus Lupin, werewolf." It was Remus that extended the courteous hand.

"Pleased. I'm Cedric Remius Wesley, the exterminator."

Harry found Remus' grip to be uncharacteristically strong for someone with a disability of sorts. The werewolf held Harry's gaze just as firmly as Harry's hand. "I can't say I approve of your occupation but Siobhan believes you to be a good man."

Harry felt a lump forming in his throat, but he would not allow Remus to see any of his discomfort. "Well, we all have to make a living somehow."

He almost wanted to squirm under the werewolf's stare. The full moon had only passed a few days ago so the wolf was still apparent in the man. "I feel as if we've met before. I should know you, am I right?"

He wrenched his hand out of Remus', even though he wanted nothing more than to hug the man. "No, you must be mistaken. Excuse me." He leaped to his feet and fled to the other side of the room. He wondered briefly if he could just up and go right then.

...

Severus supposed this gathering could have turned out worse. It was all the more tolerable when he was left to himself. Albus was his usual self- annoying. The elderly wizard had insisted on entertaining him for the better part of the evening before Minerva finally dragged the old man away. Minerva, Merlin bless her old maid soul, always was the most sensible of the whole lot, even if she was a Gryffindor.

He was simply grateful for the fact that his aunt hadn't insisted he "mingle"- at least as of yet. He stood in the northwest corner of the room like he always did at any social gathering. He was pleased to see Shavonne with Draco. Draco was far more suited for her than Wesley.

He was still no closer to solving the enigma that was Wesley. He had a cream sample, which he couldn't even identify the main ingredients of. It was not any type of salve or healing cream he had ever encountered before. It appeared to have some coloring agent, but Severus wasn't sure of anything else beyond that.

Watching Wesley now, Severus saw that Wesley's hair color was indeed very similar to Draco's, but it was a hue darker. The hair always looked uncombed, though Severus had seen Wesley struggle with a comb before. He watched as the younger man moved through the crowd, courteous to all but politely distant. He didn't seem to offer anything of himself to any of the other party-goers, not even the briefest of conversations.

He noted each time that Wesley turned down an advance made by one of either Sinclair or Shavonne's friends. However, he still found no sign that Wesley was gay like he asked sometime ago in the lab. Was it truly possible for a young attractive man like Wesley to be so completely uninterested in romantic trysts? Perhaps he already had someone back home- wherever that was.

Severus' mouth suddenly went dry at the reminder of Wesley writhing against his desk just last week. He turned and went in search of alcohol. He tried to shove the unwanted thought out of his head. The last thing he should be thinking about was the seemingly endless column of Wesley's pale throat. He suddenly felt something lodged in his throat.

He was still staring at Wesley when the lights in the room started flickering- which shouldn't have happened. The lights were all magic. He scanned the crowd for any possible culprit, but he couldn't pinpoint the source of the problem. Then the food and china set on the table levitated into the air and flew about the room.

Severus drew his wand and blast apart a bowl of punch coming at him- drenching a few other guests in punch. He turned around to see Draco- who was sheltering Shavonne- Jessica, and Sinclair being pelted by food flying off the table. Guests were being rammed by chairs moving across the floor aggressively.

It was like a tea party gone mad, straight out of Alice's wonderland.

" _Accio_ knife."

A flying butter knife, aimed at his back Severus realized belatedly, was redirected into Wesley's hand.

"What's going on, Snape?" the blond man was soon by his side with his wand drawn. "A curse on this house?"

"It's possible, but I've already checked the castle over for any lingering curses," Severus waved a smaller table shuffling about aside. "A poltergeist, perhaps?"

"No," Wesley stated firmly as his narrowed gaze swept across the room. "Poltergeists feel different than human beings, and even werewolves. They even feel different from regular ghosts. There are too many lives in this room, I can't pinpoint it."

Severus was tempted to ask more questions but knew now was not the time. Siobhan was directing the guests out of the room as quickly as she could. Wesley had zoned out, his eyes fluttering closed, leaving Severus to deal with their share of flying utensils and food.

"There!" Wesley's eyes snapped open and his wand whipped in the direction of a corner of the room.

" _Accio._ "

There was always a problem inherent in summoning something without specifying the object. Most of the time, the spell would just fail, but that was the case for lesser wizards not of Albus' and Wesley's caliber of power. Albus and Wesley had cast the charm simultaneously at the same spot. A loud ripping noise sounded through the room, and two pieces of a cloak smacked into Albus' and Wesley's chest respectively.

An invisibility cloak, Severus realized too late.

The culprit, a bundle of rags and filthy hair, was already racing for the door as soon as his protection was ripped from him. Severus wasn't going to let someone who had endangered his family get away so easily. Yet once again, Wesley was quicker. The intruder crumbled to the floor bound in magical ropes.

All of occupants left in the room surrounded the intruder with their wands drawn. Sinclair knelt down to pull the attacker to his feet and when the intruder refused to budge, he brushed away the long shaggy black hair that hid the attacker's face.

Severus recognized the face immediately even after all those years and hissed, "Nott."

Theodore Nott, a mere shadow of the young man he once was, snarled at him and spat at Severus' shoe. "Blood traitors," he wasn't done yet and turned to spit directly into Sinclair's face. "Mudbloods and foreign pigs. The Snapes have all but tainted England, and Snape women are the worst, all whores who sell their bodies to any man who would have them-"

Severus could no longer just stand by and listen to Nott deride his cousins and family name. He stepped forward and punched Nott, sending the man flying back and crashing into the floor again. "Do _not_ speak of my family like that in my presence. In fact, don't you _ever_ talk about my family in that manner."

Wesley moved to cover Draco and Shavonne from anything Nott might try. He was watching Severus with a strange expression. Draco appeared just as furious as Severus felt and Shavonne looked even paler than before. The excitement must have been detrimental to her already fragile health.

Siobhan moved to his side and placed a hand on his raised arm. He turned his head to glare furiously at her but she just shook her head. He stepped back and allowed his aunt to take care of the situation since the threat appeared to be largely neutralized on the most part. He would much rather have Nott to himself in some locked room where he could teach the man a lesson he would never forget.

"How did you get in?" Siobhan demanded. He could tell she was just as furious under that calm façade.

Nott smirked. "Simple, I just used the Floo."

"Impossible," he scoffed. "Our Floo is warded."

Nott let out a short bark of laughter. "You always were overconfident when it came to your wards and protection spells, Snape. That's going to be your downfall one of these days."

Severus couldn't help but glance at Wesley out of the corner of his eye. Was Nott implying something? Couldn't be. There was no way Nott would know something like that.

"How?" Siobhan' tone was quiet but deadly.

"Recognize the cloak, whore?" Nott raised an eyebrow in her directions.

Sinclair lunged forward, but Jessica caught his arm and pulled him back. "Don't call my mother that." He gritted through his clenched teeth instead.

His aunt snatched the piece of cloth from Wesley's hand, and he leaned over to examine the cloak himself. It was a thick winter cloak. Though it might have invisibility properties, it didn't appear to have been made an invisibility cloak specifically. Her face lost all color suddenly.

"Where did you get this?" Siobhan dropped to her knees and shook the tattered piece in Nott's face.

Nott simply smirked in return, revealing yellowed teeth.

"Where! Tell me." She demanded vehemently.

"Mère, what's wrong?" Sinclair asked.

"Don't you remember, Sinclair?" Siobhan offered the cloak to her son. "That Christmas we went skiing in the Alps?"

Sinclair's hand shook as he took the cloak and rubbed it between his fingers. He turned over the corner so that all could see the ornate SS stitched into the fabric. It was the label Siobhan stitched onto every article of clothing she made. "This was Père's."

Severus knew instantly that Sinclair wasn't joking about him now. This cloak had belonged to his cousin's blood father and his uncle-in-law, Paul. He now knew why it struck such a chord in his aunt. Even after almost sixteen years, she still had trouble dealing with her husband's death.

"Where!" Siobhan grabbed the lapel of Nott's ragged robe and shook the man furiously. "How did you get it? All of my husband's belongings are locked in a trunk in my closet."

"I'm just the messenger. The rightful owner of this castle is going to take it back. He doesn't want you here. Soon, he'll take back this castle, this town," Nott's slightly mad gaze fell on the pale Shavonne enfolded in Draco's embrace. "And everything else that belongs to him."

Shavonne began trembling in Draco's arms, shrinking back from Nott with eyes wide with fear. Her mouth opened and closed like she was trying to say something, but no words escaped. Her eyes then rolled back and she collapsed in Draco's arms.

"What did you do to her?" Draco rearranged his grip on Shavonne.

"Please, Malfoy, as much as I would like to, you know I don't have that sort of power. She's simply weak from her _illness_." Nott sneered.

"Wesley, take Shavonne up to her room. Then direct the guests home," Severus ordered. "The party is over."

"Perhaps, I should-" Draco began.

"No," Severus cut him off. "Wesley will do it."

Wesley opened his mouth as if to protest. He then promptly closed it and took Shavonne from Draco.

"You're Cedric Wesley, aren't you?" Nott directed the question to Wesley. The man nodded slowly in confirmation. "He has a message for you too. He wasn't lying. He knows of a way to silence it. He can help you. You won't ever have to hide again afterwards."

Wesley's arms around Shavonne tightened. "I…I don't know what you're talking about."

Severus had thought Wesley to be a rather accomplished liar before that.

"Say what you may, Wesley. He's watching you. He's not going to wait for your answer for much longer." Nott's eyes swept up and down Wesley's figure in an unnervingly hungry manner. Severus was tempted to gouge out Nott's eyes right there and use them as potion ingredients.

"Get to it, Wesley!" Severus thundered and spurred the man out of the room.

Albus had been watching the proceedings from the background until then. The elderly wizard placed a hand on Severus' shoulder. "Perhaps Veritaserum would be of use now?"


	9. Promises

Harry collapsed onto the couch in the main drawing room. After getting Shavonne into bed, he was left with the task of answering questions and directing the disconcerted guests back to their homes. Some left the village to Apparate and others used the fireplace in the drawing room. Sinclair came in some time after and fire-called the Ministry to request Aurors.

The Hogwarts professors refused to leave before hearing from either Albus or Snape first, so they lounged in the drawing room. Harry contemplated hiding in his room until all these people had left. He didn't though. Instead, he stood against an empty wall and watched all the people he had known in what felt like a lifetime ago.

The other teachers left him alone and Harry was glad for that. Looking to the clock on the mantle over the fireplace, Harry figured it had been just over an hour since the beginning of the ordeal.

Harry's breathing quickened when he saw Hermione approach him. He hoped she was not going to talk to him but he had no such luck.

"You're Cedric Wesley, correct?" She offered her hand.

"Yes," Harry took it and turned the palm over to kiss the back of her hand. "I don't believe we've met, Ms…?"

"Hermione Granger," she said quietly.

Harry's heart nearly broke now that he finally had the chance to study his old friend up close. The guilt he had repressed in the years past came surging back in waves. He fought to place an insincere smile on his face. "Nice to meet you, Miss Granger." It hurt to have to pretend to be like a complete stranger like this. He wanted to just hug her and just beg for her forgiveness, but he couldn't.

"Please, just call me Hermione."

"Only if you'll call me Cedric." Harry replied almost immediately.

"Of course," Hermione gave him a small smile that was a reminder of their days together. "Draco tells me you're working for Severus."

"Siobhan actually, she's the one paying me. You actually call him Severus?"

She laughed softly. "Well, not to his face, but Severus isn't so bad. Granted he can be an unmitigated bastard at times but he's a good man."

"Like Malfoy." Harry muttered very quietly but he knew she still heard him.

"Exactly like Draco."

"Are you…" Harry wanted to ask so many questions but couldn't because a stranger had no right to know any of the things he wanted to know.

Did she hate him for abandoning her? Was she lonely? Had she been able to go to Uni like she always wanted to? Did she still love Ron even though he was gone now? Was she together with Malfoy? They had arrived at the party together and Malfoy had turned to the side of the Light after falling in love with Hermione after all.

He was saved from the possibility of embarrassing himself when the Ministry Aurors came through the Floo. A few Aurors quickly took statements from each of the Hogwarts professors before dismissing them. The other Aurors left the room for Nott and the others in the dining hall. Harry's former teachers weren't happy being forced to leave.

The Aurors questioned him more since he was living in the castle at the present time and then went to join their fellows in the dining hall. Harry stayed in the drawing room since it was obvious that Snape didn't want him around at that time. About three hours after the beginning of the whole ordeal, he saw the Aurors take Nott past the drawing room door and into the foyer.

He wanted an explanation. Why was Nott still around? Nott had betrayed them all in the final battle, so Harry assumed Nott would have been punished accordingly after he was captured. The biggest question on his mind was what did Abraham have to do with any of this? Abraham was the only person who knew anything about his curse and even then, he wasn't sure how much the man really knew.

Harry began pacing back and forth across the length of the room when no one came for him, stopping once in a while to study the various objects on the mantle. What was taking so long? The Aurors had already taken Nott and left. Should he just barge into the dining hall? No, Snape had made it clear he didn't want Harry there.

A hand landed on his shoulder and he spun around. Acting on pure instinct, his body interpreted the touch as a threat and he struck out, his fist connected with hard flesh with a sickening crack. He watched in dismay as Snape stumbled back, a hand moved up to cup his bloodied nose.

"Shit, Snape! Don't sneak up on me like that!" He screamed.

This was bad. He was falling apart. He would have felt Snape's presence if he had been paying attention to his surroundings as he should have. He had allowed himself to be overwhelmed by that vague sense of paranoia after what Nott said, and allowed it to control him and his actions. This would only make him more suspicious in Snape's eyes. Harry knew he had to calm down.

"I didn't know you would have reacted so violently. This is my home. Why so jumpy, Wesley? Expecting someone?" Snape's eyes were bright with suspicion as he sneered.

"I'm telling you. I don't know anything. Excuse me, I'm going to bed." He shoved past the older man and focused his thoughts on the comfortable bed waiting upstairs instead.

"I'm not done talking to you, Wesley," Snape's vice grip closed around Harry's wrist and the man jerked him back. "How did you know where Nott was? I know you're hiding something. Don't play innocent with me."

He found himself looking up into Snape's enraged face. The older man's nose was even more crooked than before. Figures his punch would catch that prodigious nose instead of some other part like the jaw. Thin lips were drawn back in a vicious snarl. It was not a pleasant sight and Harry was reminded of his fifth year when he had violated the privacy of Snape's Pensieve.

"I don't know to what ends your purpose here serves but-"

He cut Snape off. "Look, Snape, I'm going to say this once and only once. I'm not here to achieve whatever nefarious deed you think I intend to, so just push off. I'm just as confused and scared by this as you are."

Snape let out a snarl. "I don't care for what you're insinuating. I will get to the bottom of this."

"And so will I," Harry snapped with equal venom.

He drew in a deep breath when he suddenly realized how close he was standing to Snape. The older man's eyes widened only a fraction, but he appeared to have just realized the same. Snape was the one that stepped away first, dropping Harry's arm as if it burned.

He sucked in deep breaths. There was a sort of desire churning at the bottom of his stomach. It was not unlike the curse, but Harry knew it to be something entirely different. He shuddered. He wanted to reach out and touch Snape again- to try and grasp that fleeting and seemingly ineffable feeling again.

"If anything should befall my family-"

Harry didn't let Snape finish his threat. Part of him was angry at Snape for being unable to trust Harry. "Nothing bad's going to happen. I swear it. If something happens, I'll make it right. It's my job after all."

He didn't allow himself to back down in the face of Snape's intense glare.

Snape turned away with an expression of disgust. "I am doomed to spend the rest of my life surrounded by Gryffindors."

Harry's heart seized. He knew Snape didn't mean anything else by those words but…

...

Severus stormed out of the drawing room. He wasn't going to let Wesley get the last word over him. He had finally figured out why Wesley had irked him so from the very beginning. Some of Wesley's characteristics reminded him far too much of Harry Potter.

Wesley stopped halfway up the stairs. Severus watched as the younger man's shoulders slumped and then squared. Wesley turned around and waved his hands in a vague manner, "Look, I'm sorry about your nose and sorry about just pushing you like that now. I would have fixed your nose for you except you know about my trouble with healing spells."

He lifted a hand to shield his nose. "And I thank you for not trying in the first place. My nose is monstrous enough on its own."

A boyish snicker tugged at the corner of Wesley's lips. "Yes, sir."

He deepened his obvious scowl in return. Feeling he had more than enough Wesley for the day, he turned away to return to where his aunt was still waiting in the dining hall. Unfortunately, Wesley wouldn't relent and jumped the last few steps to follow him.

"Look," The blonde sighed. "You've done me the honor of calling me a Gryffindor."

Severus snorted. An honor indeed. However, Wesley didn't let his disdain derail him.

"I swear by Godric Gryffindor's sword that I will never intentionally put your family in danger and I will do my best to remedy this strange situation. I know you don't trust me. I suppose I haven't done a lot to gain yours either, but Siobhan has already hired me and I'm here. I'm going to see this through, if you are willing to have me here."

He couldn't help but stare openly. Wesley was so strangely eager to prove himself. The obvious courage shining so blindingly bright in the younger man's face could only be described as Gryffindor. Severus was sure he knew that expression though. In the past, he had witnessed another set of stubborn jaws and bright eyes in this same way. Though he was searching for a specific face in his memories, he had seen it before on Granger and the deceased Weasley boy.

He found it even stranger that Wesley swore by a Hogwarts Founder and his archetypal symbol. After all, the Founders didn't hold all too much significance for wizards that had not attended Hogwarts and certainly not to someone that had attended Durmstrang.

He had absolutely no reason to trust the younger man. Wesley had tried to kill him, insulted him, lied to him, and may be conspiring with the fiend that was trying to hurt Severus' heirs. Yet there was something about the young man's eyes that screamed a sort of desperate sincerity.

Wesley trailed slowly behind him as he tried his best to correct his already crooked nose. He didn't need Siobhan asking even more questions than usual.

"So what happened with Nott?"

"The Aurors took him into custody." He replied simply.

"Didn't you learn anything? Or find out who sent him?" Wesley lengthened his stride to match his and Severus saw the younger man lick his lips nervously out of the corner of his eyes.

"Nott knew nothing. He had been approached a few nights ago but he never got a chance to see who it was. Whoever sent him went through a lot of trouble covering his own trail."

"Oh…" Wesley trailed off, his gaze wandering away along the wall.

Severus stopped and stepped closer to Wesley. "You suspect someone, don't you? Who? Tell me."

The younger man raised his head to meet Severus' gaze. For once, it seemed as if Wesley was the one trying to solve the puzzle. "Abraham."

"Who?"

Wesley shrugged. "Someone from the village, I think. You've seen him before too," the younger man suddenly turned his head down. "He…he knows things, things he shouldn't know, things no one should know."

"About you?"

Wesley nodded, still staring at the floor. "Abraham has a…strange interest in me. I suspect if I get close enough to him, I'll be able to find out what's going on and stop it."

"That's a fool's plan," he growled. "You don't even have an idea of what you may be getting into. Granted you may be proficient at dealing with magical pests and Dark beasts, but practitioners of the Dark Arts are a much different story."

"I know enough." Wesley glared up at him with clenched jaws.

At that moment, Severus could almost see a spark of green swimming in Wesley's gray irises. "Potter," he snapped in annoyance.

Wesley's eyes widened in shock and the younger man stumbled back. "What?" The younger wizard's eyes darted across the room in search of a quick escape.

He was too caught up in his increasing irk to realize that Wesley was overreacting for some reason. "Why must you remind of Potter so? I haven't thought about the boy in nearly six years now and then you come waltzing into my life-" he took a deep breath and cut off his own rant. The Boy Who Lived would always be a sort of sore spot for him.

"Well then, if I remind you so much of Harry Potter, I'd think I'd deal just fine with Dark Wizards." The younger man's face was white as he forced a nervous smile.

"That remains to be seen." He crossed his arms and looked away. Wesley would become even more of an eyesore if he continued looking at the younger wizard with Potter still so fresh in his mind.

...

"Cedric, I know this is sudden, mon chér, but I would be honored if you would stay with us until Sinclair and Jessica's wedding. I'm sure the rest of this family feels the same way too."

Harry nearly choked on his sandwich when Siobhan brought up her request in the middle of lunch the day right after the Nott incident. From Snape's thunderous expression, Harry knew instantly that his former professor had not been consulted about this decision.

"We would be so happy if you say yes." Jessica jumped in immediately.

Sinclair just nodded in agreement.

He took a quick glance at Snape out of the corner of his eyes. His former teacher lifted his cup of tea to his lips and the older wizard's words were muffled as a result.

"Excuse me?" Harry asked.

Snape placed the cup down and cleared his throat. "I said, Wesley, if you want to make good of your promise," the man sneered. "You'll have to be here to do so."

He smirked. It was a challenge from Snape, and it was one he intended to take and overcome. "Of course," he turned his attention back to Siobhan. "I would be honored."

After lunch, he approached Snape about going down into the village with him. Siobhan had gone off to care for Shavonne, who was restricted to her bed again for the time being. Jessica and Sinclair had their own business to take care of. Harry figured this was as good a time as ever to start.

Snape greeted his approach with a familiar gesture- that sardonic eyebrow raise. Did the man have any other way of conveying his emotions?

"I'm going to try and find Abraham now. If you would like…"

"I insist."

He eyed his former teacher's attire. "You're going to have to do something about that," he waved his hands vaguely. "You're going to look strange in the village like this. The villagers already think this place is barmy enough."

"Fine, I will meet you in the foyer in ten minutes."

He nodded as Snape left the room. He wondered if the older man had anything else besides black robes and waistcoats with one too many buttons. He shrugged off the thought and went to foyer to wait.

In less than ten minutes, after Harry remembered to discard his outer robe and to leave it in the drawing room, Snape came down. The older wizard was dressed still in complete black. Harry could not say he was surprised by that. He would have never guessed that Snape owned clothing so Muggle.

"Siobhan," Snape grumbled. He must have seen the question on Harry's face.

He nodded and they made their way into the village together. He did most of the work though. He talked to the villagers and asked around for Abraham's residence or general whereabouts. Snape just stood back and watched him work. Bloody bastard. Several people stopped them on the streets when they recognized Snape. Harry enjoyed nothing more than asking all these people why they remembered his former professor and getting the same answer time and time again along with Snape's glare. It was the older wizard's nose.

About an hour later, they were no closer than when they first started. Barely more than a handful of people in the village had ever seen a man of Abraham's description, much less know the man. It could be concluded that Abraham didn't live in Snape village. One can't live in a village of this size and be virtually unknown to everyone. Abraham must be from another village or town nearby. Or he was a tourist. Summer was the tourist season for Yorkshire.

It was almost time for tea and after Harry broke out in another coughing fit that forced them to stop and rest, Snape declared the search to be a waste of time. Between his minor cold and the warding incident, the cough persisted and refused to leave him. It was becoming more than a minor annoyance though.

Harry rolled his eyes. It wasn't as if the older man had even helped. Snape went back to the castle and he went to wait by the Beck. He was sure Abraham would show up at some point. He was just going to have to wait by places they had met before and Abraham was bound to come.

He lied down and stretched on the grassy slope of the bank. The sky became bluer and clearer with each passing day as summer settled into northern England. Harry was once again struck by how familiar this was. The fresh smell of grass teased his nose and memories. He remembered tumbling to the grass with Ron after a particularly strenuous Quidditch practice. He remembered lying back like this and listening to Ron and Hermione bicker. He slowly drifted off to sleep with the grass blades tickling his nose and elbow, and remembered…life before…

His eyes snapped open, and he was staring at a dark sky speckled with little points of light. He moved to sit up but found he was pinned to the ground by the arm around his waist.

"It's as if you're nocturnal," Abraham breathed over his earlobe and pressed his lips to it. "The sun just set minutes ago."

Harry reached down for his wand to discover it missing from its holster. Abraham propped himself up on his elbow and hovered over him, but he didn't lift the arm he draped over Harry's waist. The man waved a wand over Harry's face before quickly drawing back his hand.

He gritted his teeth. "Give me back my wand and get off."

Abraham ignored him and leaned in to nuzzle his face in Harry's neck. "Word has it that you're looking for me. I reckoned you received my message then."

"Yes," Harry planted both hands on the other man's chest and pushed him back firmly. "I hope you weren't hoping for it to be well-received and it wasn't," he sat up. "Leave Snape and his family out of this."

"I can't do that," Abraham's eyes flashed angrily. "That castle belongs to me. I was there long before they were."

He stood and held out a hand. "I've heard enough. _Accio_ wand!" he snapped.

No wand came flying into his hand.

" _Accio_ wand."

Nothing.

"Where's my wand?" he growled. "Give it back to me."

Abraham frowned and rose to his feet. He grabbed Harry's wrist and pulled him closer. "You listen here, boy. I've invested a lot of time and effort in you. I've made my offer, and you do not even have the consideration to try and give me an answer. I'm offering you freedom! Freedom from all this hiding and fear!" his fingers brushed over the faded scar on the back of Harry's right hand. "Just like this scar, the past simply doesn't 'go away,' not in the way you want it to."

Harry stared down at the pale thumb tracing the scar from his Fifth Year. It was old but never quite faded away in the way he would like. Reigning in his senses again, he tugged and tugged but couldn't free himself from Abraham's grip. It was like steel. "You can offer me nothing. I've said what I've had to say. Stay away from the Snape family."

The other man leaned in and hissed. "And why should I? He tormented you as a child. Do you not relish the opportunity to take revenge for all that pain and humiliation?"

"Give. Me. My. Wand."

"No."

Harry fisted his right hand and drew it back. He punched the other man in the face and sent him crumbling to the ground. He straddled Abraham and placed both his hands on the older man's neck. "My wand."

Abraham laughed. "You're fighting a losing battle. That curse is going to win over you one day. That day will come. Make no mistake of it, unless you let me help." Abraham's irises disappeared completely into the dilated pupil. Harry could see red- blood red.

Suddenly his throat closed up instead. He fell over and off Abraham, his hands clawing at his throat. He couldn't breathe. He coughed violently and tried to inhale air. He gasped for it.

He just hoped none of the villagers were getting themselves involved. He still wasn't sure what Abraham was fully capable of. Merlin, Snape was right. He was a fool and he had no idea what he was dealing with. The ground loomed dangerously close but something caught him before he hit it.

A warm arm encircled his waist and hauled him back to his feet. The world spun around him and he became vaguely aware that someone was calling his name- not his real name, mind you. A hand on the front of his neck massaged his throat, as if trying to ease the passage of air into his lungs.

Everything suddenly snapped into acute clarity. Harry's head fell back against a strong set of shoulders and he was staring up into Snape's face, taking in every detail of the features. He could see every wrinkle lining the older man's forehead- testaments to the stress and times of his life. He could see the frown lines tucked in the corner of those sensual lips. Sensual? It was both intoxicating and compelling. For the first time, Harry saw the fire burning under the inky blackness of the eyes. There was _life_ in this man before him and Harry hungered for it like a starved man for food.

Abraham's words pierced through his trance but did not break it. "I've accelerated the course of your curse. You feel it, don't you? The life pulsing under Severus' skin. You crave it, don't you? Take it. Satiate your hunger for it."

Snape's words were just as clear and biting. "I can assure you, Wesley, that I am nowhere near as appetizing as this man would suggest. I reckon my life would taste like ashes."

Harry struggled to find the grounds between the curse and himself. It was all muddled and blurred together. He was almost certain that if he had his wand on him, he would have used the killing curse on Snape. Snape held his gaze without wavering or blinking. When Harry began to reach down for his dagger, Snape moved one hand to grasp his wandering hand instead.

 _Legilimency_ , he remembered vaguely.

"I will hurt you if need be, Wesley." Snape growled.

He watched as Snape's other hand, with his wand clearly visible, trained on Abraham. He shivered as he felt the magic gathering around his former teacher like a bright halo. No, magic would not be enough. He had already discovered that. Life was what he needed.

"You sent Nott." It was a statement of fact more than anything.

A slow grin spread across Abraham's full lips. "Do you even have to ask, Severus?"

"I did not give you permission to address me by my given name." Snape snarled.

Abraham laughed. "I need no such permission from the likes of you."

"What did you do to Wesley?"

"I didn't know you cared."

"He doesn't." Harry vaguely muttered.

Snape shot a glare down at him before fixing his attention back on Abraham. "I am going to repeat myself only once. What did you do to him?"

"Poor, poor Severus," Abraham clucked and shook his head. "You're so in the dark, so unaware of the Darkness that dwells in that man you hold in your arms now. You were always slow to avoid your father's curse or the dark artifacts he planted around the castle. Hogwarts has only further addled your brain, dear boy."

"Don't talk as if you know me." Snape growled.

"But I do," Abraham gave them a toothy grin. "I know far more about you and your family than you could ever imagine."

Harry's insides froze when he caught the glint of the moonlight reflected off the sharp elongated canine teeth. The startling new revelation seemed to break the strange trance that held him. His eyes immediately moved to the ground and found only two shadows like he expected to. Strangely enough, he felt no inclination to move from Snape's parody of an embrace.

"Nosferatu…" he murmured.

Abraham laughed. "Very good, _Cedric_ , very good. You always did know the Darkness better than most men. You were touched by it at birth," he took a step closer with a hand extended. Harry knew Abraham was reaching for the hidden scar on his forehead. "Do you still remember that or have you repressed that as well? No one has ever won against the past."

Snape drew him away and placed himself between Harry and Abraham. With the two older men facing off in this manner, Harry could see a manner of semblance between them. Snape looked older than Abraham but then again, the undead did not age.

Abraham stopped moving closer. The vampire's words were still directed at Harry past Snape. "Now do you understand? The kinship you feel towards me. Do you now see why I have chosen you, servant? It's a compelling offer, isn't it? You find yourself fighting to resist accepting it. We have met and are meant. Don't fight it."

"As he is currently under my employment, you will have to excuse my reluctance to release him from his contract just yet." Snape straightened to his full height, but he was still shorter than Abraham. It was strange how Snape treated the whole situation like an inconvenience.

Some tiny voice in Harry's head said he should be fighting his own battles. He didn't need Snape. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself and had been for years. Yet an even louder voice clambered for him to just hex Snape and join Abraham- to partake in the pleasure the vampire was offering. Harry knew it was just his curse reacting to Abraham's proximity. These needs and wants were all artificially produced by the curse, but they were still hard to combat.

He had known of the few options he had for his future. After Voldemort had been defeated, his first task had been to research the curse the bloody bastard had placed on him. The fact that is was a curse outlawed by the Ministry under the revised Dark Arts Act of 1904 wasn't a surprise at all. There was no countercurse though. There was no cure. His prognosis was a bleak one. It would only become progressively worse and it did. He didn't give up though. It wasn't in his nature to give up. He left England after setting his affairs in order and gaining the protection of the Ministry to search the world over for a cure. He couldn't have stayed in England. He was a danger.

The only thing in the world that came remotely close to his curse was what was now standing before him- a vampire. There wasn't a cure for vampirism anymore than there was a cure for him. He hated it- this hopeless feeling.

"And he is soon to be kin," Abraham smirked. "Companion, and servant. I believe that has precedent over your silly contract."

Snape ignored Abraham and turned to face Harry. "Nosferatu, you said?"

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened them again and said very softly, "Yes."

"Very well," Snape whipped around and he could feel the sharp whip of robes snap against his jeans. His former professor brushed aside the robes with a theatrical flourish, his hand digging into what Harry assumed was one of the many hidden pockets. Snape fished out a small potion vial. He barely caught more than a glimpse of the potion's rusty red color before Snape chucked it at Abraham's feet. Snape's wand was quick though, and an _Incendio_ caught the potion before it seeped into the ground.

A plum of violet smoke rose the moment the potion caught fire. Abraham wheeled back suddenly and screeched. Harry wondered if they had attracted the attention of villagers with all this commotion. He wasn't sure why the smoke garnered such a reaction from Abraham until the wind shifted and the sudden pungent scent of garlic knocked him back and off his feet. Snape simply brought one robed arm up to his nose to fend off the obnoxious smell.

 _Greasy git_ , Harry thought sourly.

When the smoke and scent cleared, Abraham was gone. Harry's wand was lying on the spot where the vampire was only seconds ago. Harry admitted that some part of him was expecting a declaration of intent, but there was none given. He felt his mind clear without the suffocating presence of the vampire. The silent exit was much more eerie than any dramatic theatrics and the curse continued to demand satisfaction.

Harry watched as Snape's robes swished about in his direct line of sight. It finally occurred to him that Snape had gone all the way back to the castle to change back into his robes. Or maybe Siobhan had sent Snape to search for him again. She seemed to make that a point of habit nowadays.

He craned his head to look up at Snape but made no move to get up. The older man showed no inclination to offer him any help either. Snape's expression was tight and unrelenting, but his words sounded strained to Harry, "You invited a vampire into my house? Tell me, Wesley, are you an accomplice or under his thrall?"

"Neither," Harry replied simply and watched as those black eyes narrowed further. "I was cursed years ago with the Lifelust Curse…"


	10. Blood Price

Severus watched the younger man still sitting in the grass with hooded eyes. Wesley hid a dangerous secret. The younger man didn't try and explain himself any further; trailing off after naming the curse he had been saddled with. Severus didn't need any of the bumbling explanation Wesley might have attempted to give. He may not know too much about the specifics of the Lifelust Curse, but he knew enough and it was dangerous. It really was a bit of a miracle that Wesley hadn't killed him or any of his family yet.

But yet was the operative word in this case. It would only be a matter of time.

He was left with a dilemma once again. Should he allow Wesley back into the castle? A part of him screamed a quick and vigorous "no" in his mind. Why the other part of him hesitated to agree right away would take him a little while longer to figure out. Wesley was a danger to everyone, even to the vampire if given the chance. Not to mention, the vampire was also bent on having him. Wesley was like an unlucky penny that kept turning up time and time again.

He stiffened as a thought occurred to him.

"Wesley," he snapped. "Did you kill those men found by the mire?"

Wesley jumped to his feet immediately. Severus watched as a multitude of expressions played across the youthful face with insult and horror being the most prominent. "How dare you! How dare you insinuate something like that!" Wesley's arms shot forward to shove Severus back. "I assure you, if I'm going to murder anyone in this village in cold blood, you'd be first."

"How comforting," Severus glared at the younger man and rearranged his grip on his wand. "I'd like to see you try."

Wesley laughed. It was an eerie sort of sound that made Severus shift uncomfortably. "I wouldn't fail, Professor. Believe me. You wouldn't stand a chance if I wanted to."

"Then it's a good thing you don't have any other homicidal intent outside the ordinary." He was going to continue to test these waters.

The younger man deflated visibly, shoulders slumping as if all strength was drained from him. "Of course."

"Then your vampire stalker must have fed off those men and killed them afterwards," Severus frowned as he remembered the state the bodies were found in. "So he let Nott into the castle..."

"Someone would have still had to invite him in," Wesley muttered. When Severus gave him a look, the younger man immediately shook his head. "Don't look at me, I didn't do it. I swear I didn't. We should get back to the castle and warn everyone else. I don't know how this is going to affect Shavonne's recovery…" Wesley muttered.

He was about to protest the notion of Wesley returning to the castle when the younger man's remainder of Shavonne made him remember something. Nott had said something yesterday. He didn't think it meant anything even though it had struck a chord in him then, but if Abraham did truly let Nott into the castle…

 _She's simply weak from her_ illness.

Suddenly, all he could hear was the sound of blood pounding in his ears. Nott shouldn't have known Shavonne was sick. She made it a point not to tell anyone when she was at the party. Then it all suddenly fell into place like the pieces of a puzzle. Shavonne had met Abraham before and even conversed with him. The vampire's silent communication to Severus at the Castle Arms Inn that day not so long ago suddenly became clear. Perhaps most telling were the two pin-hole marks he had thought to be insect bites and the subsequent rash that developed.

"Snape!" he finally blinked when Wesley screamed out his name. "You alright? You're even paler than usual."

"Shavonne…"

It took only a second before Wesley's gray eyes widened in sudden comprehension. Severus would have to give him more credit from now on. "Shit! You don't think Abraham's feeding off her? Is that why she's sick?"

"The mediwitch said Shavonne's blood was thin, as if she had magical anemia. She's met with him that day at the inn. She may be under his thrall."

Wesley blanched, his face becoming as white as snow under the moonlight. "Merlin! He may be angry enough to just go straight after her right now!"

He shoved Wesley to the side and started back toward the castle. Behind him, he heard the other man summon his wand before pounding footsteps followed right behind him.

-x-x-x-

Snape threw open the front doors with such force that the sound of their resulting impact with the walls echoed through the entire castle. Harry leaned against the open doorway, trying to catch his breath. He watched as Snape paused in the foyer for a second and was confused by this. Snape had run back to the castle as if the hounds of hell were nipping at his heel. Harry jumped when an unexpected shock of power, like particularly strong static shock, leaped from the doorframe into him.

Snape was calling up the wards.

The outline of the rune circle they had drawn for the ceremony appeared in the center of the foyer. Snape was right to be proud of these wards. They threatened to expel even Harry at the moment, but he thought that was probably due to the older man's exceptional protectiveness at the moment. Yet the circle vanished as suddenly as it appeared. Whatever Snape had been trying to accomplish by calling up the wards must have failed.

Sinclair emerged from the hallway at the top of the staircase. "What the hell was that?"

Snape was already half-way up the stairs before he asked, "Where's Shavonne?"

"She's resting in her room." Sinclair gave the older man a strange look.

"Is she alone?"

"No, Mère's-" Snape's cousin never got a chance to finish his sentence when the man bound past him. Harry jogged up the last few steps and was prepared to follow Snape when Sinclair grabbed the sleeve of his shirt. "What's going on?"

"Vampire," he huffed, still slightly out of breath. "No time to explain. Shavonne might be in danger."

He and Sinclair were not far behind Snape when he hurled himself through the doors of Shavonne's chamber. Sinclair cried out in outrage- an intriguing mix of rage and horror- when he saw the scene that greeted him, and Harry only tightened his grip around his wand. Siobhan was seated on the bed and staring at her daughter with unblinking eyes. Snape's wand was trained on Abraham, who was holding a shaking and deadly pale Shavonne.

On Shavonne's neck was the tell-tale wound of a vampire's attack. Two gorged and bleeding holes, definitely larger than pin-sized, dotted the pale column of her neck. Harry began to wonder why they hadn't noticed such wounds on Shavonne before, if Abraham had been feeding on her all along. Had he healed it in an effort to keep off their radars?

"How nice of you to join me for my meal?" Abraham gave them a toothy smile that showed his sharp teeth and full blood-stained lips.

Harry leaned against the frame. He was beginning to lose himself again. He could smell the scent of blood lingering in the air. To the curse, blood was almost as good as life. No, blood was life. He shook his head in a vain attempt to clear it but was lost when he caught Abraham's eyes again.

"Bloody hell! Wesley, concentrate!" Snape's voice pierced through the barrier of the world containing just him and Abraham.

"Right," Harry shook his head again and stood just a little taller. His attraction to the vampire was wrong, and now he knew the reason for it. None of it was real. It was all induced by the curse and knowing that helped Harry to fight the irrational compulsions better.

"Let go of Shavonne!" Sinclair demanded as he charged forward at the vampire.

"No!" Snape roared but his wand never left its focus on Abraham.

He sprung forward and latched onto Sinclair's arm, stumbling for a second but refusing to let the other wizard do something reckless. Sinclair's body shook with suppressed rage. Another nauseating wave of desire washed over Harry and he leaned his weight more against Sinclair as a result.

"Watch Weasley and don't do anything daft." Snape ordered and moved toward Siobhan sitting on the bed.

Shavonne whimpered in Abraham's grip. She squirmed and struggled to get away, but Abraham clamped his hands harder down on her waist.

"Are you going to try and save them all, Severus? How futile. You can't even save yourself," the vampire laughed. "Your magic won't work again me, wizard. I may have been a Squib in life, but my transformation has gifted me with power you could never imagine."

"You overestimate your own abilities, vampire." Snape snarled and laid a hand on Siobhan's shoulder. He squeezed his hand around the mound to gain her attention. When he failed, he shook her not so gently.

Harry fumbled to hold up his wand, but when Abraham's eyes fell on him, he felt his resolve begin to crumble again. Those eyes beseeched him to turn on Sinclair, and one part of him wanted to jump that opportunity. He dropped Sinclair's arm and moved toward Abraham.

"Cedric!" Sinclair's hand shot out to grasp his wrist but Harry moved away too quickly. "What are you doing!"

"That's good," Abraham cooed. "Come to my side, where you belong."

"Wesley, get back there!" Snape barked.

Harry ignored Snape's order and the implied threat of a painful and drawn-out death. He continued toward the vampire. When Snape's wand moved from Abraham to him, Harry whipped his wand in his former professor's direction and cast a disarming charm. He caught the wayward wand and sneered at the man.

Snape looked murderous, but he figured the older wizard was furious with himself for giving him even the smallest bit of trust. He held Snape's wand tightly and took another step toward Abraham. He presented both wands to the vampire. Abraham loosened both his arms from Shavonne's waist and the witch's legs bucked under her weight. Knowing this would be his only chance, he threw all he could into his stunning spell and dove to catch Shavonne. He was surprised to find his spell cast through Snape's wand as well.

Abraham stumbled back under the weight of both spells but did not succumb to even their combined strength. The vampire screamed in outrage, "How dare you? How dare you defy me?"

Harry caught Shavonne in his arms and moved back as the vampire advanced on him. "You hold no power over me, vampire. You have nothing that I want to give me."

"You're a foolish, foolish boy. I offered you everything." Hellfire burned behind the blackness of Abraham's eyes.

Snape sprang to his feet and shouted. "My wand, Wesley."

Just as Snape caught the wand Harry tossed to him, Abraham spun around and threw the older wizard back with a wide spread of his arms. Harry shoved Shavonne in Sinclair's direction and drew his silver dagger. He leaped forward, striking the area between the base of Abraham's neck and collarbone. The silver sliced easily through the thin skin, and blood welled and spurted from the wound.

Abraham roared and knocked the dagger out of Harry's hand. The dagger flew clear across the room. The vampire grabbed onto Harry's wrist and pulled him against the vampire's body. Blood soaked into Abraham's white shirt and Harry could feel it bleeding into his t-shirt. It was wet, sticky, and very uncomfortable. His senses abandoned him for a second when the vampire's arms settled around his waist, but he quickly found himself after catching Snape's intense gaze.

He was glad to see Sinclair had managed to catch Shavonne and the young witch had passed out. He smirked up at Abraham. "What's wrong? Lost control of the situation?" he felt the pressure on his wrists increase. " _Accio_ dagger."

The vampire dodged to the side, pulling Harry along with him. The dagger flew just past them in a streak of silver. Jessica Apparated- was she even allowed to do that, Harry thought for one frantic second- suddenly into the room and shoved her open palm into the side of Abraham's face. The vampire yelped and jumped back, putting some distance between his and Harry's bodies. Jessica snapped back her hand and dove for the hand holding Harry hostage. Abraham's grip only loosened slightly, but it was enough for Harry to break away.

As he drew back, he made sure to pull Jessica back as well. The sudden scent of burnt flesh- burnt diseased flesh- filled the air. He glanced curiously at Jessica, and the woman smiled and held up her open palm to reveal the silver chain and cross pendant wound around her fingers.

"My patience is only so generous," Abraham growled, the movement of his mouth drawing attention to the blackened cross shape burned into his suddenly sagging cheek. "They are the ones who are trespassing on my property, and the fact that their return has rendered no effect on me proves their blood is too weak. They have no rightful claim to this castle. You cannot expel me."

Harry recalled Snape's attempt to call up the wards earlier and knew it was the truth. Abraham couldn't be kept from this castle for some reason, and it was something more than the fact Shavonne had probably invited him in.

"Want some more, vampire?" Jessica challenged.

Abraham sneered, showing off all his sharp teeth. "I have no interest in Mudbloods, much less a niger."

Harry and Jessica ducked when a large bat dove down at them. It then swooped up and towards the open door. Snape followed, throwing several stunning curses in quick succession. When they all missed, he fired more malicious curses, but they all fell short. Snape took off after the bat and Harry screamed after him, "No, don't, Snape! Worry about Shavonne first!"

-x-x-x-

Severus fired another Dark curse at the bat, but it dodged it by barreling in the air. The spell hit the wall instead and dissipated. It rounded a corner and out of his sight. He wasn't going to give up the chase so easily. That creature had hurt Shavonne. It had hurt one of his heirs, laws and the Ministry be damned.

He took a moment to orient himself in the castle since the surroundings didn't look familiar. Turning a corner, he found himself shrouded completely in darkness. Looking back, he found that the light spells stopped working just short of this particular corner. His suspicions were confirmed though.

It was the abandoned North Wing.

Severus whipped his wand in an upward arc and spelled for light. He scowled at the long dusty and cobweb-ridden corridor before him. It couldn't be helped since not even the house elves were willing to approach this part of the castle. He did know this hallway was straight forward, so he could only advance forward.

He shone the light of his wand onto the bare walls. There was a time when those walls would have been littered with paintings, both Muggle and wizard, and other art pieces. Severus hadn't lived in that time. Ignatius Snape had purged the castle of all objects Muggle in origin mid-19th century in the face of renewed and rising anti-Muggle sentiments. Subsequent Snapes had followed in that tradition and a cache of Dark Arts artifacts built up instead. Severus had sold almost everything when it came to him in the form of his inheritance. He couldn't say he missed any of it.

He came to the dead end where a collapsed wall and part of the ceiling blocked the stairways to Uriel's Tower. Yet he found no Abraham or bat. He had set up a spell perimeter to alert him, but there was nothing. Some color caught his attention out of the corner of his eyes. He turned to shed some light on it.

It was a painting, but the canvas was torn and folded over. He could tell that the paint was long faded from what little of the painting he could see. He moved closer to read the dusty name plate set into the frame. He cast a few spells to see if it had been booby-trapped first. His diagnosis came up negative.

Just as his fingers brushed against the frame, what he thought was a spot of faded paint started to glow red. More lines and curves came to life, and as Severus watched as the lines aligned and conjoined, he realized it was a blood seal. It was a severely weakened blood seal, but still one nonetheless.

At the same time his spell perimeter flared to life, Severus heard, "Do you understand now, Severus?"

He whirled around and threw a hex. The hex appeared to have hit Abraham, but its intended effect didn't take place. A vampire's immunity against a wizard's magic was legendary, and that immunity only developed as a vampire aged. Perhaps age wasn't a good choice of words.

Abraham continued. "You're a brave wizard to confront me alone."

"You have no intention of killing me yet. That I do understand." Severus wasn't going to let his guard down.

"That is true. I need you to understand first."

"I, on the other hand, fail to see the need." He raised his wand again.

The vampire shook his head sadly. "You're too quick to draw your wand. Where is that famed Slytherin side now?"

Severus refused to rise to Abraham's bait. The corners of the vampire's lips quirked upwards, eyes burning with hellfire as he recited:

"Whilst you played wits against me, I was countermining you. And he, your best beloved one, is now to me, flesh of my flesh; blood of my blood; kin of my kin; my bountiful wine-press for a while; and shall be later on my companion and my helper. He shall be avenged in turn; for not one of you but shall minister to his needs. But as yet he is to be punished for what he has done. He has aided in thwarting me. Now he shall come to my call. When my brain says 'Come!' to him, he shall cross land or sea to do my bidding. And to that end this!"

Darkness swarmed and dampened his light spell. Severus braced against an attack, but none came and the wave of blackness passed. The light returned and he found himself alone.

-x-x-x-

Severus rarely saw Hogwarts' hospital wing in such a state of chaos nowadays. There was only the seven of them, including Albus and Pomfrey. Shavonne was laid out on one of the sickbeds with Pomfrey pouring various potions down her throat. The rest of his family was crowded around the bed while Albus tried to calm them all down. Wesley stood all the way to the side and out of everyone's hair. Usually Severus would have appreciated this, but it was just too suspicious with the events of this past evening.

"How is she?" He asked.

Pomfrey wiped the sweat from her forehead with the sleeve of her robes. "Fine, she hasn't ingested the vampire's blood, so she hasn't inherited his curse. She should be fine after she regenerates her blood over the next few days. However, she's not allowed out of bed for at least another week."

Severus nodded and stepped away from the bed. Siobhan grabbed a trailing arm and held on tight. He turned to glare at her, hoping to cow her into submission, but she returned the glare full force.

"You're not going back alone," she said with narrowed eyes.

"So you're suggesting that we allow that monster free rein over the castle?"

"Of course not," she shook her head. "But the wards-"

"Don't work," Wesley cut in as he approached the group. "The wards won't expel Abraham. You'd have a better chance of expelling me from the castle since the wards don't seem to react to Abraham at all. The Professor only got so far as to call up the wards. We all would have felt something if they at least tried to."

"As much as it pains me to say it, Wesley is right," he shrugged off Siobhan's hand. "I will have to confront the vampire."

"We," his aunt and Wesley blurted out in unison.

Albus interjected with his own advice. "Severus, there are proper channels to go through. Vampires have rights under our laws too."

"You mean putting in a request to the Ministry and waiting as they dillydally about while that vampire sucks the entire village dry?" Severus snapped. "I will not."

"Then I'm coming with you." Siobhan insisted.

"No," he and Wesley said simultaneously.

He stopped and stared at the younger man. Severus knew why he was so quick to object to Siobhan's participation, but he wasn't so quick to understand Wesley's reason.

Wesley gave Siobhan an apologetic look, "I'm sorry, Siobhan. I know you're a strong witch, but you fell so easily and deeply under Abraham's thrall. You'd only put yourself in danger's way and we don't want to see you get hurt."

"We?" Severus asked.

Wesley simply looked around the hospital wing and said, "I think I'd make pretty good bait."

He finally understood the unspoken words. Wesley knew he was expendable to Severus in a way his family would never be. There was no way he was going to place Siobhan and the others in the path of danger, but he would do that with Wesley. Yet something inside his chest twisted at the thought. "He does have an unhealthy fixation on you." He muttered and wondered why Wesley would be volunteering for something like that.

"Tell me about it," the younger man snorted and then appeared thoughtful for a moment. "I would like to request permission to go into London tomorrow though."

Severus turned to face the younger man fully. "Why?"

"There are some items I have stored away there that might be useful."

He closed the space between them and did his best to loom over Wesley. "What makes you think you still have a job to ask for leave from after tonight? He has a strenuous hold over you as well and that curse… You're a liability now, Wesley. I should turn you away right now."

Wesley narrowed his eyes and glanced at Siobhan standing at his side. "Fine, you made me say it aloud. But you won't, you can't, and I won't go anyway. Not until Abraham is dealt with. Even if I do leave, that doesn't mean he'll stop terrorizing this village. You want to get rid of him, but you don't want to get your family involved. You don't want to put them at anymore risk than they're already in. I'm a different story. I'm expendable of sorts."

Siobhan opened her mouth to interrupt, but Wesley wouldn't let her, "Face it, to Snape here, I'm expendable. You've seen me fight off both Abraham and the curse. It's under control."

Severus suddenly leaned in and watched as Wesley shivered. All of the younger man's strange reactions around him made sense now. It was that Lifelust Curse acting up. Severus admitted that he must closely resemble what Wesley was used to hunting. He saw what the younger man was attempting to do with this job. It was an effort to appease the curse- to compromise with the instinct it invoked.

"Would you kill him? Could you kill him?" That was the most important question of all.

"I will."

He felt the rise of some twisted respect for the blonde. "I'm sure you won't be missed for one day."

Wesley almost smiled and Severus caught himself before an approving expression crept across his own features.

"Enough," Albus commanded and the entire room fell silent except for the sound of Shavonne's harsh breathing. "For now, you should stay at Hogwarts and devise a plan. This can be resolved without bloodshed."

He was alarmed when Wesley snarled and a streak of red flashed through those gray eyes, "You can't deprive me of my prey."

A hushed silence fell over the room as Siobhan stared at the exterminator with something akin to horror.

Albus didn't reply and only stared Wesley down. Wesley had no choice but to back down for the moment, and Severus wondered if he had made the right choice. Would Wesley really be able to control himself as he claimed he could?

"I arrange for a few guestrooms then and I'll send for Miss Granger to see if she can help with anything." Albus said in the self-assured manner he always spoke with. "Will you be returning to your quarters in the dungeon then, Severus?"

He nodded. He needed to research that Lifelust Curse in further detail.

-x-x-x-

Severus wasn't surprised when Albus invited him up to his office for a cuppa. While he would have much rather not, the old coot had insisted. Tea service appeared immediately on the headmaster's desk.

"Sit," Albus commanded in that deceptively benign manner before serving the tea.

Severus had no choice but to obey and dropped into the armchair opposite the elderly wizard.

"Albus," he greeted.

"Now Severus, you know that the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures isn't going to be very happy if they find out you intend to kill a vampire. A vampire is classified as a Magical Being and not as a Magical Beast." Albus set a cup before Severus before preparing his own.

"He's a rogue vampire," he growled. "Even if he does have rights as a sentient being under our laws, most parts of North Yorkshire are so sparsely populated by witches and wizards that I would fail to see the Ministry seeing this as a priority of any sort."

The headmaster was quiet for a few seconds, "I will make some inquiries at the Ministry about the legal status of your rogue vampire. If he is indeed a sought after fugitive, we best leave it to the Ministry. We should not take the laws into our own hands."

Severus gnashed his teeth to keep from saying anything more, to remind Albus of all the occasions during the war where they had done just that. Albus Dumbledore had selective memory in that area. He only needed to remember what suited him best at the moment.

"Do not worry, Severus, I shall be discreet in my inquiries."

"That's actually the least of my worries." Severus grumbled as he stared at the cup of tea. He watched as steam reached up to grasp at the ineffable. That was how he felt at the moment, as if he was groping blindly about in the fog.

What was the missing piece of the puzzle here?

Albus serenely sipped his tea and then said, "I reckon that Mister Wesley must be of some use then. We don't have many who follow his line of profession these days."

"I trust him even less. Wesley has finally seen fit to tell me he is subject to the Lifelust Curse." He snarled.

"A rather nasty dark curse if I recall correctly. How long ago was he cursed?" Albus asked curiously, but Severus knew every question the old man asked was done so for a reason.

"Six years now." He grumbled and tensed in anticipation of Albus' reactions.

The elderly wizard stroked his beard and frowned. It was a deep dip of the lips. Severus recognized it to be the exact same frown the headmaster wore when contemplating the situation that would become the final battle with the Dark Lord Voldemort. "That only lends support to my assessment of him as a wizard."

"And what is your assessment?" Severus asked.

"I believe that Mister Wesley is an unusually unique and gifted individual. His capacity for power appears to be more than what most could hope to achieve in lifetimes."

The Headmaster's words struck a chord deep in Severus and it only took a few seconds for him to realize why. Those were the exact same words Albus used to describe Harry Potter right before the boy started attending Hogwarts. He didn't think Albus meant anything by using those words specifically, but one was never too sure with this man.

"Be that as it may, the boy is still a menace." He snapped in return.

Albus broke into a grin at Severus' words. "Yes, I do realize that I said the exact same for Harry, and no, I did not mean anything else by it."

"I, for one, find it hard to believe you would be unable to find Potter after all these years." He folded his arms over his chest.

"Would you rather I have?" The old man asked.

He thought for a second. "No, I reckon Potter can take care of himself and would be better off doing so."

Albus smiled sadly. "I always did know you never hated Harry as much as you claimed."

Severus snorted. "If you are insinuating that Wesley is really Potter in disguise…"

The headmaster gave him that look that made many wonder what more did this wizard know. "Would that truly be such an absurd possibility?"

"Yes!" Severus leaped to his feet. "I've taught the boy for seven years, I do believe I would know Potter's ego anywhere. That you would even suggest that Wesley is-" he couldn't bring himself to fully vocalize the thought. "It's absolutely absurd."

"Severus, had you truly ever gotten to know Harry beyond what you believed him to be?" Albus rose to his feet as well. "Just think, six years have passed, at least give the benefit of a doubt that the boy has now grown into a man."

Severus glared at Albus, but he knew there was nothing to be gained from arguing with the Headmaster about Harry Potter. He sat down again reluctantly and reached for the cup of tea. It was cold now.

Albus shook his head and sat back down as well, "I assume you have made progress regarding your party crasher though."

He almost snarled again. He hated hearing the word "progress" from Albus' lips, but he wasn't sure why it irked him so. "Yes, Nott was under the thrall of that vampire. What will happen to him now?"

"Mister Nott is being held in the custody of the Ministry until his trial." Albus' eyes glinted with a hard light.

Severus just nodded. There was no doubt Nott was going to be convicted on several different counts of murder, war crimes, and treason, and he felt no sympathy for his former student. He contented himself to his tea and waited for Albus to start again.

"I've sent an owl to Miss Granger, she's at the Burrow at the moment. She says she'll be here tomorrow morning. Mister Malfoy, Minerva, Poppy, and I are the last of the staff remaining in the castle at the moment." Albus reported.

"Where are Draco and Minerva then? I find it hard to believe they would miss all this excitement." He drawled.

"Mister Malfoy is having dinner with a distant relative at the moment, and I saw no reason to disturb his visitation."

Severus suppressed the urge to scowl at the headmaster. "You're right, he'll return soon enough."

Draco would have no choice but to return Hogwarts anyway. Much like himself, Draco was doomed to spend the rest of his life under the thumb of one Albus Dumbledore. But unlike himself, Draco didn't have anyone to fight for his family estate when the Ministry had confiscated it after the war- like Siobhan had done for Severus. It may be years before an opportunity would present itself to Draco. What surprised Severus the most was Draco's willingness to endure all of this, though he suspected one Hermione Granger made it easier.

"Minerva retired early after a rather taxing encounter with one of Hagrid's beasts. She needs the rest and will be informed tomorrow."

He scoffed, "Where is that oaf?"

"Hagrid is vacationing with Madame Olympia as he does every summer."

Severus made a noncommittal grunt and sipped his cold tea again. "You're going to insist that we stay, aren't you?"

"Very much. This is for your safety too."

"I still don't see why you insist on inviting Granger back to the castle."

The elderly wizard gave him a disapproving look, "Miss Granger is always free to go to and from this castle. I would never turn her away. She has wanted the opportunity to converse with Mister Wesley more ever since their meeting at Siobhan's party. It may do her some good."

He narrowed his eyes, "You're planning something."

Albus only shook his head sadly. "Must you always suspect me of some wily scheme, Severus? I only have all of your best intentions at heart."

Severus set his cup and saucer down on the desk with a resounding clank and stood. "That's all the more fearsome." He swept out of the office before the headmaster could say anything in return.


	11. Renfield's Madness

Severus found it all very odd. He had seen barely more than a shadow of the ghosts that resided at Hogwarts since he returned. Never mind the fact that ghosts didn't cast shadows in the first place. He caught sight of the wispy trail of the Bloody Baron when he was down in the dungeons just before breakfast. When he had called after the baron, the ghost gave no indication of hearing him and vanished into the nearest wall.

On his way up to the Owlery after breakfast, he saw Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington, or as dubbed by the students, Nearly Headless Nick.

"Sir Nicholas," Severus called after the ghost, his stern voice bouncing off the walls.

The ghost seemed to stiffen and take a misstep. That alone was enough to tell him something was going on. Nicholas was no Slytherin, and he couldn't resist the urge to take one look back at Severus before fleeing into the wall.

He stood there with a frown and wondered just what had the ghosts so anxious that they vanished at the first signs of someone living approaching.

-x-x-x-

Harry left first thing in the morning, well before Hermione would arrive at the castle. He wasn't ready to see her again so soon and needed to gather his wits. He Apparated to London and emerged from an alleyway about four blocks away from the Ministry. The building itself had been lucky to have survived the war since it had been proven his Fifth Year that the wards were inadequate against Voldemort's forces. He was happy to see the old phone booth where it was supposed to be.

He looked up and down the abandoned street before stepping into the booth located by several shabby-looking offices, a pub, and an overflowing dumpster. He picked up the phone from the crooked cradle and dialed in 62442. The dial whirled back into place and a familiar female sounded in the booth, "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

"Cedric Remius Wesley, here to see the Department of Mysteries."

"Thank you. Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes."

He picked up the badge that dropped out of the coin return and did as he was told.

The female voice continued, "Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium. The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day."

The floor bucked under him and sank into the ground. When the door sprang open again, he was greeted with the sight of the Atrium as he remembered it. Harry strolled straight past the fountain and its golden statues to the security gate. He offered his wand as requested.

The attendant picked up the piece of parchment spitting out of the base of the instrument and read off it, "Ten and three quarters inches, dragon heartstring core, been in use of the last six years. That correct?"

He just nodded. The attendant thrust the wand back at Harry and waved him off. Harry passed through the golden gates and got onto one of the many lifts on the other side. The lifts were as crowded as the last time he was here, but the riders were even ruder since he no longer wore the identity of Harry Potter, shoving him against the very back wall of the lift. He had to ride up to level three, where everyone else got off, before he could reach the panel to push the nine button.

"Level nine, Department of Mysteries."

Harry strolled down the bare corridor, lit by seemingly nothing but the white walls. He fingered the Knut in his robe pocket. The coin grew warmer as he came closer to the solitary black door at the end of the hallway. It would give him a one-time admittance into the Department of Mysteries. If he left without his belongings today, he would never be able to retrieve them afterwards.

He pushed back at those horrible memories from the end of his Fifth Year. Those were just the sort of thing one didn't forget- no matter how hard one tried. The door opened at the presentation of the Knut and there was an Unspeakable waiting on the other side.

The Unspeakable extended a hand forward and Harry dropped the coin onto the open palm held out to him. She then spoke, "Our Seer predicted your arrival today. Password?"

"I will not tell lies." Harry replied gravely.

"So you won't." The Unspeakable nodded her head and indicated for Harry to follow her. She led him into a small empty room just to the left, where a chest was lying on the floor. Harry was just glad he wouldn't have to see the Veil or the death room. He approached the chest and knelt down by it. He dispelled the personal wards he had placed on it years ago. As soon as he popped open the lid of the chest, the Unspeakable left the room so he could sort through his belongings privately.

Lying on top of the rest of the contents was the wispy silver material of his invisibility cloak. He had done without one for years because it was something too important to risk in the field. The rest of the contents of the trunk were mementos from his school years. At the very bottom of the trunk still laid the broken shards of the mirror Sirius had given him so long ago along with the remaining pieces of his first wand.

He stuffed the cloak back into the trunk and snapped the lid close. He shouldn't have gone all the way into the bottom of the trunk. There were just things he didn't want to face unless necessary. He hesitated for a second though. There was a risk of exposure if he brought all this back to Hogwarts. However, he was even more hesitant to relinquish his belongings to the Ministry, no matter what pains they may cause him. True, he could try and get it afterwards, but he would have to raise all kinds of hell to do so. There was only one thing missing now.

He turned to call for the Unspeakable but found she was already waiting there with his Firebolt in hand. Years ago, that broom might have given his identity away but no more. His palms itched as he reached out fro the handle. The Unspeakable let him take it but asked, "Would you like the designated files to be unsealed?"

Harry thought for a moment. "No, if your Department's Seer is that able, then both she and your Department should know when to unseal it."

He gripped the broom and turned back to the trunk on the floor. He didn't want to shrink it and its contents, but he couldn't go waltzing out of the Ministry with a trunk trailing behind him. He could try and fly back to Scotland, but Harry doubted he would find his way. He would have to settle for the Knight Bus.

The Unspeakable smiled as if reading his mind. "The front desk has already been alerted about your cargo. You shouldn't have any trouble, but you might still attract some unwanted attention."

"Thank you."

The Unspeakable stepped to the side after Harry spelled the trunk to follow him. She stopped him at the main doors and said very simply, "Welcome back, Mister Potter."

His grip tightened around his broom. He couldn't say he was surprised that the Unspeakable knew but hearing it still unnerved him. "No, not today. Maybe someday. Maybe never."

-x-x-x-

"What are you doing?"

Severus suppressed a flinch when Siobhan appeared by his side and peered over his shoulder. He drew the parchment out of her sight and scowled, "I would appreciate it if you didn't sneak about in order to read my missives."

She fell back on the heel of her feet and smirked, "I was wondering why you were in the Owlery of all places."

Severus walked over to the feed and took an owl treat to offer to the bird that had delivered his letter. He watched as the owl accepted the treat and took off into the sky. When he turned around, Siobhan was still waiting for him. "Don't you have some scheme to plot with Albus?"

"Not until you tell me what that letter's about." She crossed her arms over her chest.

"It's none of your concern," he sneered.

"I recognize Prentice's owl and you don't owl Prentice for anything less than the end of the world."

Severus made a disgusted expression. "Refrain from using such Muggle expressions."

Siobhan brushed off his words and narrowed her eyes in suspicions. "Now tell me what you're sneaking around with. Don't tell me you were-" Her jaws shut with a click and she glared at him.

"I'll do what I must."

"You have absolutely no regard for other people's privacy."

Severus smirked and dangled the unopened letter in Siobhan's face. "However, you can't say you're not the least bit curious about what Prentice found about our Cedric."

Her scowl deepened. "I hate you."

His smirk widened as he broke the wax seal on back of the envelope. "Of course," he pulled out a few sheets of parchment and quickly scanned the contents.

"Well?"

Severus passed the first sheet to Siobhan. "Nothing extraordinary, born and raised in Surrey, both his parents died in an automobile accident when he was one. He was raised by his aunt and uncle and attended Durmstrang when his uncle was transferred to Berlin. " His lips suddenly dipped down in a frown.

She rolled her eyes. "What have you found fault with now? It's exactly what Cedric told us about himself. You've only confirmed the fact he hasn't lied to us."

He passed the last two sheets to her. "But don't you find it odd? Why would Wesley attend Durmstrang of all places? Why didn't he attend Hogwarts?"

"It's not unusual for children to receive invitations to attend other schools. If I recall correctly, Draco was invited to attend Durmstrang as a child. Both Sinclair and Shavonne were both invited to attend Hogwarts." Siobhan scanned down the list of information Prentice had complied for him.

Severus folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the wall. He brushed away an owl that was perched too close for comfort. "Draco is a Malfoy, with all the standings and privileges of his birthright. From what we have seen, Wesley is most likely a half-blood or even a full Muggle-born. Durmstrang would have never accepted him. Durmstrang isn't Hogwarts."

"You don't know that though. You're just making unwarranted accusations," she flipped over to the next sheet with all of Wesley's accounts and muttered in dismay, "His savings are abysmal. Is his income that low?"

"Anyone's income pales in comparison with yours." He deadpanned. His annual teaching salary was comparable to about two months of her earnings from the shop.

She ignored him and continued, "I just can't imagine how he can live off these meager earnings or how Prentice manages to get his hand on this information."

"Enough," Severus growled. "You're circumventing the point of this discussion."

She waved the pages of parchment at him. "And you have yet to show me anything noteworthy of my suspicions. What has Cedric done to you?"

"You must be becoming senile. You couldn't possibly forget about what Wesley did to myself or Lupin."

"We know that was because of his curse. Everyone makes mistakes."

He narrowed his eyes. "Don't you dare use that against me. You're too quick to trust, Siobhan." He wanted to shake her right now. Why did she have to be so blasted unreasonable at all the wrong times? Did Wesley really look that much the stray pup? Did she even know what the Lifelust Curse was?

"And you're too quick to judge," she turned her nose away. "Give it up, I doubt Cedric is hiding anything more than his curse from us. If he is, it's his right to privacy."

"I beg to differ."

-x-x-x-

After Harry Apparated into Hogsmeade, he bumped into Hermione on the path to Hogwarts. His trunk, trailing behind him, faltered for a second.

She greeted him with a bright smile, "Hello, Cedric."

Harry could only manage a weak one in return, "Hi, Hermione."

"Are you heading up to the castle?"

He nodded.

"Great, we can walk together."

He hesitated before following Hermione. They walked side by side up the beaten path to Hogwarts. The first few minutes of their journey were spent in silence and Harry was tore between the desires to strike up a conversation and to remain silent. She relieved him from having to choose.

"Headmaster Dumbledore tells me you're having trouble at the castle," she frowned. "But he wasn't very specific?"

"There's a vampire in the area and Shavonne fell prey to his powers."

"That's terrible. I hope she's alright."

"Shavonne's fine after a look-over from Madame Pomfrey."

"Incredible," she muttered. "Vampires are extremely rare in Britain."

"I was under the impression they're rare all over."

"Actually, there are only 23 vampires registered with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures in all of England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales. Vampires have the least rights out of all sentient magical Beings. Compared with werewolves, vampires are treated like fourth class citizens."

Harry stopped to gawk at her. "Vampires have rights?"

She gave him a sharp glare. "Yes, vampires have rights as well. They're not allowed to work and must depend solely on the Ministry for support. They limited to consuming animal's blood and though they have been promised the right to register a consenting human donor with the Ministry, it is often denied to them. When there are cuts in the Ministry budget, funding to the vampire division are among the first cuts. They're kept in virtual isolation, malnourished, and mistreated."

"You almost sound indignant for them." He muttered.

"Of course," Hermione exclaimed. "How is anyone supposed to live like that?"

"They're vampires," Harry couldn't resist the urge to point that out. "They don't need the same things we do."

Her glower intensified. "That's no excuse for such inhumane treatment. That can't be acceptable. I suppose you feel the same way about werewolves then."

"Werewolves are different than vampires. Werewolves are dangerous one night out of a month and the Wolfsbane Potion has gone a long way in rendering them harmless on that night. Vampires have nothing of that sort. They're dangerous to others all the time. It's hard for people to treat others, who are such a constant threat, fairly." He muttered.

"That's rubbish."

"Would you rather they be at full strength, and we have no preventive measures against them? Would you rather live in a world where there's a perpetual war between the living and the undead?"

"You're being ridiculous. Vampires can live off animal blood too. There are also human donors-"

He cut her off. "If that really worked, do you think the vampire population would be so small? Twenty-three doesn't even constitute a population. My guess is that most vampires changed in this country leave England soon afterwards. Either that or they slip under the Ministry's radar and live as their nature dictates, feeding on us anyway."

"I refuse to believe there can never be peaceful relations between vampires and wizardkind." She was as stubborn as he always remembered.

"I'm not saying it's right, Hermione," he sighed. "But that's the reality of the situation now. We're talking about very morally ambiguous areas. No matter how you look at it, a creature's first instinct is to protect itself."

She stared long and hard at him. He was afraid she might never forgive him for expressing the opinions he did. She sighed, "I know you mean well, but you should look into your heart of hearts."

They walked the rest of the way to the castle in silence. Hermione's expression was tight all the way up to the castle.

-x-x-x-

Severus took inventory of the evidence he had against Wesley. The fact that Abraham was actually a vampire served only to explain a few things about Wesley's behavior. It had still yet to explain why Wesley had one of Severus' cloaks. The curse Wesley claimed to be under didn't explain why Wesley was dying his hair the Muggle way.

A small part of his mind whispered to him, _Maybe Wesley's just vain. Plenty of women waste hours dying their hair like that. Does it really make a difference if he's a man?_

He shoved those words to the back of his mind. He was sure the dubiously blond-haired man was hiding a bigger secret than his curse. Wesley had to be.

The Lifelust Curse was supposed to be a quick-acting and detrimental curse aimed at breaking down normal cognitive and emotional processes while inducing symptoms of delusions and hallucinations. It was nothing short of a one-way ticket to a psychotic breakdown. Yet Wesley claimed to have been cursed with it years ago. Severus had been unable to find any other previous recorded case where that happened. Most victims were known to fall completely under the influence of the curse after just few weeks.

Surely the blond man knew what kind of statement he was making by claiming to have been able to resist the curse for so long. There was no doubt in Severus' mind that Wesley was an extremely powerful wizard. Yet this magical strength only rendered him more dangerous when taken in conjunction with this curse.

"He, your best beloved one, is now to me, flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood…" Severus muttered to himself. Abraham had given that entire speech for a reason but to what end? He stared at the shelf of books and tried to remember the rest of the vampire's little speech.

"Kin of my kin, my bountiful wine-press for a while, and shall become later on my companion and my helper." A soft voice finished behind him.

Severus quickly turned to glare at the speaker and deadpanned, "It's you."

"I didn't know you enjoyed Victorian literature, Professor." Granger said.

"It's none of your business." He snarled and turned away.

"Cedric told me about the vampire. I would like to help if possible." She said quietly.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he snarled again. It was always that damn Wesley. "Fine, you may help me research the Lifelust Curse."

"Why the Lifelust Curse? That has nothing to do with the vampire." She furrowed her eyebrows in deep thought.

"I'm tempted to say I'm less worried about the vampire than I am about Wesley. I know I will be able to handle the vampire, but Wesley has become an entirely different story."

"Cedric's been cursed?"

"He has been for years now."

Granger didn't appear a bit disturbed upon learning that fact so Severus concluded she had no idea what the Lifelust Curse was. That was fine. It would only inspire her to be more in-depth in her research. It pained him to admit it, but Granger's ability to unearth information was rivaled by no one else.

-x-x-x-

Dinner was an unspectacular affair, but nerve-grating as well. Severus glared at Wesley all throughout dinner, but the younger man just did his best to ignore him. During the course of the meal, both Jessica and Siobhan kicked him under the table to dissuade him from continuing except Siobhan was a bit off and kicked her son instead. Wesley led the way out of the Great Hall after dinner. As soon as the blond man stepped over the threshold of the door, something came crashing down. Sinclair grabbed a hold of Jessica's arm and pulled her back. Everyone stared as Wesley stood in the doorway drenched with red paint.

A familiar cackle drew all of their attention upwards, where Peeves looped through the air before throwing the empty pail at Wesley. Severus wondered how the poltergeist even got his hand on a bucket of paint.

"Peeves!" Granger screeched.

Peeves swooped down on Wesley, but the man quickly ducked. The poltergeist flew upwards and sat on the arch of the doorway.

Albus stepped out of the Great Hall and carefully around the puddle of paint at Wesley's feet. The headmaster buried his arms into his sleeves and looked up at Peeves over the edge of his half-moon glasses. "Peeves," Albus said with a warning tone.

Granger went to Wesley's side and began casting a variety of cleaning spells. Wesley shook off his sleeves but spilled drops of paint- like fresh blood- onto Granger's robes instead. He then sighed and said, "Forget it. I'll just wash it off as soon as I get back to my room."

"And drip all over the castle in the meanwhile?" Severus sneered.

Wesley sighed again and passed his wand up and down his body while muttering more cleaning spells.

Peeves burst out into laughter again, despite the warning looks both Albus and Minerva were giving him. The poltergeist grabbed his stomach and laughed as if Wesley was the funniest sight he had ever seen. Lifting one quivering finger, Peeves pointed to Wesley and exclaimed, "Now the inside matches the outside and the unseen comes to light. Unholy and Dark you are, with a mountain of deaths piled onto your shoulders."

Severus watched as Wesley's jaws tightened but remained close as he refused to reply to Peeves. Minerva waved her wand about and cast a few spells that were usually enough to deter Peeves. The poltergeist dodged all of them as he continued to cackle. He grabbed another bucket near the door and dumped the questionable water over Wesley's head.

"Haha, wash away the blood!" Peeves shouted and flung the bucket at Granger.

Granger jumped back and the bucket cracked as it impacted with the floor. "Stop that now, Peeves, and leave Cedric alone."

Peeves ignored Granger and continued to taunt Wesley. "Wily Wesley, you'll start to stink if you keep carrying that serpent's corpse around."

It was unlike Peeves to act so outrageously while the headmaster was around. It was even more unlike it to continue its behavior after both Albus and Minerva had shown their disapproval. Peeves continued to dance around Wesley, as he continued to look like a drowned rat.

"Cease, Peeves, or I shall retrieve the Bloody Baron." Severus ordered.

Peeves dropped back in mid-air as he continued to laughed, "Even the good Baron will not approach the Wesley here for there is life to be had in him still yet. The serpent's venom still flows in this one's veins. No, too dangerous for those with life to be around this one. A life eternal comes at the price of others'. Be warned! Be warned!"

Wesley narrowed his eyes as he flicked water off his drooping bangs. "Peeves, is it? I'm sorry if I have offended you in some manner."

The poltergeist cackled as he flew away, "There's no life to be had here. There's nothing to satiate you here."

"Are you alright?" Siobhan drew a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped some paint from Wesley's cheeks.

"I'm fine."

Minerva turned to Albus, "What could make Peeves act in that way? He's never disobeyed us like that before and in front of guests no less."

"Worry not, Minerva. It's just Peeves. I'm sure he means nothing by it. What do you say, Mister Wesley, since you are the party wronged by this incident?" Albus gave Wesley a pacifying look.

Wesley opened his mouth to say something but closed it and looked away before finally grumbling, "I think nothing of it. It's just a simple poltergeist."

"Very well, I'm sure Mister Wesley is eager to return to his room and clean up. Shall I send a house elf to check on you?" Albus asked kindly.

Severus watched as Wesley clenched his fists tightly and snapped, "No. I'll be fine on my own. Good night, everyone." The young man gave them all a curt nod and stormed away like a bloody specter.

"I think your manners are becoming contagious." Siobhan remarked as she watched Wesley go.

"What just happened? I don't think I get it." Jessica muttered.

"Perhaps it was his curse acting up again." Severus started to move forward.

"What? What curse! Don't tell me you did something to him!" Jessica exclaimed.

He ignored her and stopped at Granger's side. "I require your assistance, Miss Granger. Would you be so kind as to lend me your assistance?"

Granger quickly nodded and assented. The chit knew a bit of tact, unlike the rest of her House. He ignored Jessica as she called out questions after him. He had made up his mind to check the book tonight.

-x-x-x-

Stumbling up the stairs and cursing as they moved, Harry watched hopelessly as the stairs shifted away from the path to his room in one of the towers. He gave up and sat down on the steps as he waited for the stairs to revert to its original path. He buried his face in his hands and wished the world would fade away.

Who would have guessed that Peeves of all people and creatures would be the one closest to knowing who he really was? Harry hoped that the poltergeist's words sounded like pure nonsense to those who didn't know where to look for the hidden meanings. He had heard them loud and clear though. It was no wonder that none of the ghosts had approached him so far. Peeves spoke of the serpent's corpse and Harry knew he was referring to Voldemort. Harry stank of death, murder, and Voldemort.

There was the ugly blackness that crept under his skin. He didn't know what Abraham had done to him, but there was a perpetual itch to… Harry refused to commit the notion to a full-fledged thought, much less action. He found his hands trembling at odd moments when he was hit by an overwhelming craving- looking across the table during a meal or stumbling on the stairs after catching the tail end of trailing black robe.

He wished a hole would open up and swallow him whole. He lifted his head out of his hand and threw himself back against the steps. Staring up at the distant ceiling, Harry was struck by how silent the castle was. He had seen the castle in the dead of the night during the various school holidays, but it never seemed this desolate. As he listened carefully, he could almost catch the whisper of some conversation between portraits.

"What are you doing there, lad?"

Harry turned his head to the side and stared at one of the portrait residents peering down at him. It wasn't one of the portraits Harry was familiar with or remembered from his school days. "I'm just waiting for the stairs to move again."

"Maybe you should see Madame Pomfrey." The subject of the portrait furrowed his brow in concern.

Harry glanced down. He still looked horrendous. "Peeves did this to me."

"That Peeves again. I don't see why Dumbledore just doesn't rid the castle of that menace. Why yesterday, that beast tried to slash up my canvas." The portrait huffed indignantly.

Just as Harry was about to reply, the stairs started moving back into its previous position. He stood and dusted off his robes before climbing up to his isolated room. As he was moved away from the portrait, he could hear the portrait still ranting. Harry shook his head. It was good to know that not everything had changed. In fact, it seemed as if Hogwarts hadn't changed at all since he left years ago.

The portrait guarding his door gave Harry a disgusted look and snorted with contempt before asking for the password.

"Vita," Harry grumbled and it swung open. He ran his hand down the canvas just to irk the painting.

The room Dumbledore had provided for him was spacious. Needless to say, he received a few strange glances when he requested his current accommodations so far from everyone else, but Snape had insisted as well. Harry snorted. Of course, Snape wouldn't want him anywhere near anybody else after he found out about the curse.

On his way to the bathroom, he looked at the Marauder's Map spread out on the table and did a quick check of where everyone was in the castle. Siobhan, Jessica, and Sinclair were all in the hospital wing with Shavonne. Madame Pomfrey was in her office, as were Dumbledore and McGonagall in their own respective ones. He did a double take when he noticed Snape and Hermione lingering in the vicinity of McGonagall's office.

Were the two of them up to something?

-x-x-x-

As luck would have it, Minerva was in the process of taking down names from the Book of Names to send owls to the children that were to be admitted into Hogwarts in September. The Book of Names was far from a misnomer. The name of every child from England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales that would be eligible to attend Hogwarts was magically recorded in the book within a week after birth. While it was the child's- or more accurately, the parents'- prerogative whether the child would attend Hogwarts or not, the name would be recorded in the book nonetheless (1).

The book had been passed down from the time of the four Founders along with the Sorting Hat and was currently stored in Minerva's office since she was the deputy headmistress. Severus couldn't just waltz in and ask for a peek in the book. It would be far too suspicious and he didn't need anyone asking questions. Yet… No, he was going to have to draw Minerva away from her office first.

"You want me to lie to Professor McGonagall?" Granger asked with slack jaws.

Perhaps Granger wasn't the best accomplice for this task. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm not asking you to kill the blasted old cow. I simply need you to keep Minerva from her office for about ten minutes."

"But why? What are you going to do in her office?"

Severus wanted to knock the chit upside her head. He hated it when people questioned him and little Miss-Know-It-All was no different. If he didn't know better, he would have thought she was accusing him of something sullied.

"You need not concern yourself with that."

"You're asking me for a favor and I need not grant you it." She hissed in return.

Severus cursed the day Granger grew a spine. "I need to know once and for all if Wesley is lying or not."

She stared at him. "It's all because of Cedric again? Why are you so obsessed with uncovering his past?"

"That is none of your business," he snarled. "Stop wasting my time, Granger."

"Fine, I'll help you." Granger said and walked down the corridor toward Minerva's office. He watched as she ran her hand through her frizzy hair to gain a more disheveled appearance. She rapped twice on Minerva's door and fell back on the heel of her feet. The door opened immediately afterwards and Granger rushed in.

"Professor, it's Peeves again! I couldn't find Headmaster Dumbledore so I don't know what to do! He was acting so strangely before, but it's even worse now!"

Severus was impressed with Granger's acting skills. He supposed she must have picked up something after spending so many years bailing out both Potter and Weasley. A few seconds later, Granger dragged Minerva out of the door and down the corridor away from him. He would leave Granger to explain for herself.

He dashed down half the length of the corridor and managed to catch the door before it shut. He slipped into Minerva's office and closed the door behind him. While he had asked for Granger to occupy Minerva for about ten minutes, he was likely to have much less. The Book wasn't on Minerva's desk. The parchments spread out on her desk were all invitations to the incoming class, so the Book shouldn't be far from reach.

Severus opened each of the drawers in the desk and rummaged carefully through all of them. He still couldn't find the book. There weren't that many places to hide it. Severus had seen the book once before. It was a tome thicker than the width of Hagrid's arm and one that would continue to grow with time.

He turned to face the bookcase with only a few minutes left at most. Minerva didn't seem like the type to hide it in plain sight. Yet he spotted the thick tome without a title on its spine wedged between a worn copy of _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ and _From Water to Wine: The Limits of the Alchemic Theorem_ toward the end of the second shelf from the bottom.

The tome was lighter than expected when he pulled it off the shelves. He should have had some difficulty in carrying it, but he doubted that Minerva would have been able to lift it otherwise. He placed it on her desk and flipped open to the entering class of 1992. Wesley was born on October 31, 1980 so he wouldn't have been of age to enter Hogwarts until the year after Potter.

The entering class of 1992 had a total number of 56, sixteen more than Potter's year. Minerva's markings indicated that all 56 invited to attend Hogwarts had done so. Looking down the list, Severus couldn't find Wesley's name anywhere in that year. He double-checked and still couldn't find it. He looked up at the clock hanging on Minerva's wall and found he had already been in the room for about four minutes.

He slammed the book shut and squeezed it back into its place on the shelf. He slipped out of Minerva's office and started towards the main staircase. As he reached the top of staircase, Granger and Minerva were making their way up the stairs. He swept by without acknowledging either of them. There was a lot to think about, but Severus was becoming more and more convinced of one fact.

There never was a Cedric Remius Wesley to begin with.

-x-x-x-

Severus secured the letter and the small pouch containing two gold galleons to the owl's talon. He watched as the owl, one of the school's, took off and hoped it would be able to make its way around Prentice's defenses. His investigations the night before had confirmed one thing for him. Wesley was a complete and utter liar. If Prentice couldn't find any of Wesley's school records from his days at Durmstrang, Severus would know for sure that everything about Wesley had been falsified.

The Owlery was nearly empty compared to yesterday. Almost all the owls had been sent out to deliver the invitations to attend Hogwarts. Severus had been lucky enough to get to the last owl before Minerva. The only other owl left was Potter's old owl.

Severus glared at the white bird. She turned up at Hogwarts not long after Potter's disappearance and hadn't left since. The bird refused to deliver letters and was generally so ill-tempered that most people didn't dare to approach it. It was one of Potter's last remaining legacies at Hogwarts and was one of the "relics" shown to every First Year. The owl lifted her head from her chest and stared at Severus with sleepy amber eyes.

He found the owl to be as impudent as her former keeper. "Your master is never going to return." He growled.

She hooted and turned her head away. He suddenly felt the urge to kill the bloody bird. He gave one last ineffective glare at the bird before turning away. As he passed one of the open windows facing the north side of the castle grounds, he noticed a lone figure prostrated at memorial dedicated to those who died in the struggle against Voldemort. Severus wondered who it could be.

-x-x-x-

Harry hadn't expected there to be a memorial at the school. It was a large stone slab balanced on its side. There were a few bouquets of flowers and since they were only a bit dried, Harry concluded some student had visited the memorial not long before the school year ended.

His hands shook as he reached out to touch the slab. A multitude of names were engraved onto the stone. There almost seemed to be too many to count. He never realized how many of his classmates had perished in the aftermath of the war. Many had died in the final battle, but even more had been grievously injured and suffered painful curses. It was heart-breaking to see how many had never recovered.

Harry found it hard to breathe as he approached the end of the list. His hand lingered over the name of Ron Weasley chiseled into the rock. Ron had died before his time. Ron shouldn't have died in the final battle but should have lived to marry Hermione and…

His legs gave out under him and he slid to the ground. Ignoring the mud and dirt smeared over his robes, he leaned his head against the cold slab. A cloud moved across the sky to obscure the sun, changing the blue sky into a dreary gray.

He wondered how the rest of the Weasley were doing now. Percy died early in the war as a neutral bystander, stubbornly placing his faith on Fudge and his administration all the way up to his death. Harry clenched his fist against the rough granite as he remembered how devastated Ron had been when he first learned of Percy's death. When he left, the other Weasleys had survived despite the many scrapes and bruises, but Ginny was still in critical condition at St. Mungo's.

Harry ran his fingers across Ron's name once more.

"They all died so young and ahead of their time."

Harry stiffened at the sound of Dumbledore's voice. He lifted his head back and forced a smile. "Afternoon, Headmaster."

"Good afternoon, Mister Wesley. I hope you're enjoying your visit to Hogwarts, despite the unfortunate circumstances that has brought you here. Severus tells me you attended Durmstrang." Dumbledore smiled in the way that always made Harry nervous.

He nodded, "My uncle's company transferred him to Berlin when I was young so I didn't have a chance to attend Hogwarts. A pity, I suppose."

"I see you've found Mister Weasley's name." The headmaster said with a strange light in his eyes.

He forced himself to pry his hand away from the stone. "Hermione told me about her fiancé. It just seemed like such a sad story. It doesn't seem fair that he died so young."

"Life is rarely fair and war is even less so. Many brave young people lost their lives in the fight against Voldemort and even more sacrificed their youths. If only I could have carried those burden for them…"

"No one lives forever, right?" Harry asked.

"That is correct."

A minute passed in silence before Dumbledore spoke again. "My friend in the Ministry returned my owl today. You should know that there is no vampire named Abraham registered to that area. As a matter of fact, a vampire hasn't registered residence in that area of Yorkshire in over fifty years."

Harry froze.

"I thought it would be best if you knew."

His hand fell limply to his side as he listened to the sound of Dumbledore tread through the mud back to the castle.

-x-x-x-

Harry peered curiously into the hospital wing. Pomfrey was nowhere in sight so she must still be in her adjoined office. At the moment, he wasn't Shavonne's only visitor. From the door, he could make out Draco Malfoy's platinum blond hair seat by Shavonne's bed. He took a deep breath before entering and approaching the bed.

He stopped for a second to observe both of them. It was strange to see Malfoy fussing over someone. He had never seen Malfoy act this way, not even towards Hermione. Then again, Hermione would have never allowed it. Was this the answer to his question? It did not seem like Malfoy was with Hermione. It wasn't that Harry particularly wanted that to happen, but Malfoy had turned from Voldemort for Hermione. Were feelings strong enough to drive someone to go against everything they've known that easily forgotten? But Hermione had made it clear from the start she would love no one but Ron.

Turning his attention to Shavonne instead, he breathed a sigh of relief after seeing she was finally up and conscious. She looked lost among the pile of pillows propping her up but she looked far healthier than she did yesterday.

"You're recovering well." Harry said very quietly. He almost felt bad for breaking up their intimate conversation.

"Cedric, you're such a dear to visit me." She battered her eyelashes flirtatiously.

"Wesley," Malfoy inclined his head in greeting.

"Malfoy," Harry returned just as casually. "I don't mean to interrupt you…"

"Not at all," she clapped her hands together and gave him a pleased smile. "Just pull up a chair."

He shook his head. "No thank you, I was just stopping by to see how you were doing."

"I've been better." Shavonne sighed and sank back into the pillows.

"You're lucky, that's what you are." Malfoy said.

"I'm going to have to agree with Malfoy here. Why did you invite Abraham into the castle? Even if he wasn't a vampire, he still could have been dangerous." Harry scowled. It would have also made his life a whole lot easier. "You're lucky that Snape and I figured it out quickly. Who knows what could have happened if we didn't."

"Listen, the both of you," she snapped in annoyance. "I've told Severus this many times and I'll tell you now too. I didn't invite Abraham into the castle. I never did. I don't know who did, but it wasn't me."

"If it wasn't you, then who?" Harry stared at the sheets. It couldn't have been Snape. Siobhan, perhaps?

"Someone must have invited him in. Vampires can't just waltz into a wizard's home. You're not bloody Muggles." Malfoy snapped.

Harry wanted to hit Malfoy for his derisive tone and the way he spat the word "Muggle," but the other man did have a point. Wizard homes were conscious to the threat certain creatures posed to its owners and barred them from entering without a formal invitation. Muggle homes were not the case, since they were rarely sentinel or warded. The only other way a vampire could have gained entrance into a home without permission was if he had some legitimate claim of ownership to the land.

" _Don't talk as if you know me."_

" _But I do," Abraham gave them a toothy grin. "I know far more about you and your family than you could ever imagine."_

"That's it!" Harry exclaimed.

"What?" Shavonne asked.

He couldn't tell her just yet. He had to confirm it for himself first. "Nothing, I just remembered where I placed that…thing…"

"You shouldn't hold back anything you know." Malfoy narrowed his eyes.

"I'm not." Harry's eyes flickered briefly to the other man. "Don't worry, Shavonne. I'm going to make sure he hurts no one else. I'm going to get him out of your home."

"Cedric," she reached out for his hand but he stepped just out of the way. "Don't do anything stupid or unnecessary. The whole family really cares about you. Even Severus."

Harry fought the urge to scoff at the idea of Snape being concerned for his wellbeing. "I won't."

With a final nod to both Malfoy and Shavonne, Harry crossed the room and closed the doors behind him. He began the trek back to his room to retrieve his invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map.

"Wesley."

He took a deep breath before turning to face Malfoy. "Yes?"

"If you know something, you shouldn't keep it to yourself." The blonde said with narrowed eyes.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You lie."

"Believe what you like," he smirked. "I don't have to answer to you."

Malfoy raised his wand and leveled it with Harry's face. "You should have prevented this in the first place. What good are you as a Dark creature exterminator if a vampire got to Shavonne right under your nose? I hold you responsible for her condition."

"As do I. I will get rid of that vampire, but it's not because of your threat. I owe you nothing." Harry turned away.

"Don't ever turn your back on my wand, Wesley." Malfoy called after him.

He waved a hand over his shoulder. "I doubt you could do anything to me anyway, Malfoy."

-x-x-x-

"This is such a fascinating curse," Granger muttered in awe from behind her giant tome. Unlike him, she had no previous knowledge of the curse and felt compelled to absorb everything she could find. "Do you really mean to tell me that Cedric has had this curse for six years? I don't even see how that's possible."

Severus crossed his arms over his chest and continued to glare at the books. Even with her help, he had still yet to understand Wesley's situation. "I have a theory as to why. Wesley's job as an exterminator is just a cover. He does what he does simply to satisfy the demands of the curse."

Granger allowed the book to fall back on the table. "Similar to how vampires stave off their blood-lust with animal blood? I can't believe Cedric would be willing to do something like that though."

He snorted at her naivety. "Would you rather Wesley goes mad and slaughters those closest to him like in all the other cases recorded?"

"Of course not," Granger protested weakly. "But a life is still a life."

Severus looked away in disgust, "Gryffindor sentiments."

"Not everyone is blessed with Slytherin sensibilities like we are."

He couldn't say he was surprised to see Draco standing at the head of the table. "You've returned already?"

"Draco!" she exclaimed. "You're here."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Where else would I be?"

It was always interesting to watch Granger and Draco interact. Even after all these years, there was something so fundamentally awkward about their exchanges. It could be frustrating to witness too and made Severus want to shake both of them at times. He wondered when Draco would finally get over Granger, if ever. Though he and Draco may joke privately about the blonde's relationship with Shavonne, Severus knew Draco wasn't ready to pursue any real romantic relationship with his cousin.

"You said you were staying with your cousin for a bit this summer."

"A bit," Draco deadpanned in return.

"Do the two of you mind?" Severus snapped. "I would like to concentrate on the subject at hand."

Draco picked up a book from the table and flipped through a few pages. "So this is about Wesley?"

Severus glared at his former student and now present colleague. "Spare me, you were listening for the last few minutes before you even approached us. Just tell me what you know."

"The Lifelust Curse was created in 1902. The creator, Harker Helmdag, was a pioneer in the field of blood curses, particularly the vampiric Bloodlust Curse. He also had a penchant for human testing. Helmdag was trying to recreate the original vampiric blood curse but ended up with a derivative, the Lifelust Curse, instead. In many ways, the Lifelust Curse inspires vampiric tendencies, but a life must be taken by the hands of the cursed to satiate the curse. It became very popular among certain circles because the curse was not only subtle, but self-incriminating as well. There's no known cure or countercurse for it. May have tried and failed. Not the mention the fact those cursed are put down like rabid dogs, even if the authorities realize it's the curse in the works. Its original name was 'Renfield's Madness'."

Granger interrupted, "As in the character from Bram Stoker's novel?"

Draco nodded.

Her face lit up and she turned to him with a notable bounce in her movements. "Professor, that quote you were reciting earlier is also from _Dracula_."

"What is the significance of this Renfield character and this novel?" His patience was quickly wearing thin.

"You don't know?" she looked surprise. "Haven't you read it?"

"I have no interest in Muggle literature."

"Renfield is one of the characters from the Victorian Gothic novel, _Dracula_ , by a Muggle author named Bram Stoker. The story is based around the vampire, Count Dracula. It was one of the earlier stories about vampires and helped made vampires into an icon of the modern horror genre. Renfield is a mental patient under Dracula's thrall and is obsessed with the idea of obtaining eternal life. He believes that by cultivating smaller creatures, feeding them to subsequently larger animals, and finally devouring the animal himself would lengthen his life span. The dichotomy of Renfield's character is the most interesting part because at times, he seems very much sane and other times completely nutters."

Severus narrowed his eyes. "So Renfield was the vampire's servant?"

She nodded. Severus stood but before he could clear the table, Granger grabbed a hold of his robes.

"Wait," she exclaimed. "It's not as simple as you think."

"What's not so simple? The vampire as good as told me that Wesley's his servant." Severus snapped. He didn't need this now. Wesley was going to pay for all he did.

"The passage you quoted isn't about Renfield. Dracula was referencing to Mina in that passage."

"What difference does that make?" Severus raised his wand at her face. "Unhand me now or you leave me no choice."

"She's right," Draco piqued.

Severus looked from one to another and back. He crossed his arms over his chest and hissed, "Explain. Now."

Draco exchanged a glance with Granger before starting, "Mina Harker is another character from _Dracula_. She's the wife of Jonathan Harker, one of the men battling Dracula. She was best friends with Dracula's first English victim and later becomes Dracula's prey herself."

"So Wesley's a woman and a victim?" Severus sneered.

"No, Mina represented something more in the story. She's the epitome of the Good Woman and the battle against Dracula becomes the battle to save her soul. She's the countermeasure that Dracula took because the men were careless and didn't guard her closely enough. Mina becomes the unifying factor between all four men after Lucy's death." Granger paused to consider what she had said so far before continuing in a very quiet voice. "If the vampire's words are meant to be taken in that context, Cedric is someone very important to you."

-x-x-x-

"Ridiculous," Severus muttered darkly as he stormed down the corridor. "Absolute rubbish."

He glared darkly at the stone floor. The nerve of Granger to suggest something like that. He would be lying if he claimed he wasn't tempted to eviscerate her for her gall. Important indeed. Wesley meant nothing to him. Wesley was even less than an employee since Siobhan was the one paying for his services. The only reason he was interested in Wesley was because Severus knew the man was keeping some additional dark secret from all of them. He was doing it to protect Siobhan and the others since they were too daft to notice a suspicious person until an Avada Kedavra was cast their way.

It was not paranoia. It wasn't.

Severus stopped in the middle of the corridor and turned around. He reached into one of his hidden pockets and fingered the vial of Veritaserum he always kept on his person. He was going to get his answers today, even if he had to douse Wesley in Veritaserum. He reckoned Wesley wouldn't look much different from his occasional crazed state with the potion in his system. Severus pictured Wesley's eyes dilating, not with the slack expression characteristic of Veritaserum, but with hungry expression Severus had seen a few times before. His breath quickened as he recalled how Wesley's lithe tongue would dart out to wet his lips.

Severus turned toward the wall and slammed his fist into the stone. What was he doing thinking about something like that? Had he developed a less than appropriate interest in Wesley? In an enemy?

"Is something wrong, Severus?"

He took a deep breath and rose to his full height before turning to face Jessica. The woman squinted as her eyes tried to focus on him. She reached out and planted a hand against the wall to steady herself.

He frowned. "Are you hurt?"

Rubbing her eyes, she shook her head. "No, I ran out of contact lens solution and I can't find my spare glasses. Have you seen Cedric around? I was hoping to borrow some solution from him, but he wasn't in his room."

He nearly snarled at the mere mention of Wesley's name.

"What did Cedric do to piss you off now?"

"Merely existing."

"Remind me to stay out of your hair today." She said as she stumbled past.

Watching her careful progress down the hallway, he frowned. "You shouldn't walk around like that. Allow me to cast a vision spell for you at least. Sinclair would never forgive me if anything happened to you."

Jessica stopped to look back and gave him the biggest smile he had seen from her in a long while. "Thanks for your concern, Severus. Always knew you weren't as big a bastard as you tried to act. I'll be fine."

"Why do you continue to use those contact lenses if they can be such a bother? There are potions and spells that can fix your vision."

"Those spells can be so unstable and the potions are expensive. Cedric feels the same way too."

"Is that why?" Severus muttered with no real interest in the reason why Wesley did anything.

"Yeah, but he wears colored ones. I don't see why though. His eyes are really pretty on their own. Gray's kind of dull compared to his green. They're almost like emeralds."

Something froze inside him. "Green…like Avada Kedavra."

"Uh, I guess."

Severus clenched his fist and pushed off from the wall. Without another word to her, he took off down the corridor in the direction of the stairs.

"Wait! What happened?"

It couldn't be. After all, Potter wasn't the only person in the world to have green eyes. Yet this was the only answer that made any sense but no sense at the same time. It explained Wesley's attachment to Lupin despite him being a werewolf. It explained why Wesley was such an incredibly strong wizard. It explained why Wesley had held out against the curse for so long. It might even explain why Wesley was cursed with it in the first place.

The stairs gave him no trouble, but he doubted they would have been able to stand against his ire. He stood in front of the portrait entrance to Wesley's room, rapping against the guardian painting and shouting, "Wesley, let me in now. You're not getting away today. I'll blast my way in if I have to."

"You will do no such thing!" the portrait huffed indignantly. "He can't hear you anyways since he left about half an hour ago carrying a silver cloak."

Severus swore under his breath. Why was he always one step behind Potter?


	12. Blood of My Blood

Harry drew his invisibility cloak closer around his body. The castle had been dark when he first entered, and he had a bit of trouble before he managed to spell some light. Moppy had been moved out of the castle since the Snapes retreated to Hogwarts.

He didn't know where to find Abraham. In retrospective, it was foolish of him to go chasing after the vampire on his own, but he had to know.

He closed his eyes and sought out the Dark presence in the castle. There were several benign ones in dungeons, which Harry guessed were just bats. There was a Darkness situated in the vicinity of the North Tower, and his curse sprang to life at the prospect of a feeding. Harry leaned against a wall and wrestled the curse back into submission. The curse demanded life more ardently than ever before and it refused to be silenced. Harry didn't dare to move until it settled down. It wasn't completely sedated as it whispered obscene suggestions like a little devil sitting on his shoulder. He ignored it as best as he could and started toward the North Tower.

Harry jumped when the light fixture on the walls suddenly lit up. Abraham must know he was here. He soon came to the dead end of a collapsed wall. After glancing around the crowded space of jagged shadows and rocks, he couldn't find Abraham but the curse insisted he was. He then noticed the crooked frame hanging on one wall. The canvas was ripped and curled up so Harry couldn't tell what the subject of the painting was. Unable to get over the notion of how out of place it looked, he approached the painting and pushed back the peeling canvas.

It was Abraham, as young as the day Harry met him. The dull plaque affixed to the frame read: _Lord Abraham Snape, the seventh Lord Latimer of Snape._

"Does that answer your questions?"

Harry stilled and pressed his head against the moldy frame to gather his thoughts. He hoped that the vampire couldn't see him under the cloak.

Abraham chuckled, "You know better than that. There's no need to hide from me, my sweet."

A hand landed on top of his head and tugged his invisibility cloak off. The vampire tossed the cloak aside and swooped down onto Harry.

"Why are you doing this to them? They're your family." Harry asked as he tried to recover his thoughts from the incoherent pool of babbling that always arose when the vampire was near.

"Wrong!" Abraham exclaimed. "They are the descendant of my uncle. _I_ am the last of the direct line of the Snapes."

Harry was trapped between Abraham and the wall, and he found it hard to breathe. Abraham's chest heaved with obvious rage against the small of his back. It was strange to feel the vampire's breath tickling the back of his neck. Vampires didn't have the same biological need to breathe like other living creatures, since the mechanisms of the body were completely sustained by magic and the life blood of others.

"So you think getting back at the Snapes now will change anything?"

Abraham pressed against Harry and lowered his lips to the shell of Harry's ear. He didn't bother to fight the curse now roaring through his blood like a Gryffindor lion. He wanted to kill Abraham. He needed Abraham to die. Abraham leaned in further and took Harry's earlobe into his mouth. He moaned as the vampire suckled on his ear.

"Stop," he protested weakly.

"I will not stop. The fact that I stand before you now is proof enough that they are not worthy of the Snape name. Their blood is too diluted and tainted to bind me to the seal. As soon as they left these grounds over twenty years ago, I was freed. They are weak, Harry."

"I don't understand."

"This castle and this village are both rightfully mine. They should not be here. They fraternize with the enemy and go so far as to breed with them. They would even bring a filthy niger into the castle. The audacity! My uncle was always a degenerate, and I can clearly see that his descendant are no different, with no loyalty to country or bloodline," the vampire snarled. "Disgusting, filthy degenerates."

"What are you planning to do with the Snapes then?" Harry asked quietly.

"I'll kill them all. They're nothing but Mudbloods and blood traitors. I am the last true Snape now and forever."

"You're dead." He shuddered as he fought the urge to lean back against Abraham. He could feel the icy cold radiating from the vampire's body. "You can't. The Ministry-"

Abraham laughed. "What can the Ministry do? I am older than the Ministry of Magic itself. What could any wizard other than yourself do anything to me? You are the only one closest to being my equal, Harry. Why do you think I would take such an interest in you? We could change this world together, take all of this and mold it into something more. Together, we could be a force of revolution and cleanse this world of all this impurity."

"You're a fool," Harry gasped, his chest aching painfully from the pent-up curse and frustration. "You must have heard about what I did to the last person with the same ambitions."

"Voldemort was the fool. The secret of eternal life is no secret at all. He was too much of a fool and a coward to embrace what was offered to him. His wizard powers would have been nothing in comparison with the powers he would have gained with his rebirth. Though Voldemort was the fool," Abraham clamped one hand down on Harry's waist and wound his other arm around Harry's body to plant another hand on his chest. "He still managed to do this to you."

Pain blossomed in Harry's chest cavity and stars exploded behind closed eyelids. Suddenly everything became too sharp, too hot, and too heavy. He fought violently to get away because Abraham was too cold, but the vampire's hand on his waist and chest held him firmly in place. He clawed against the uneven stone walls he was pressed against, feeling the tell-tale wet warmth of blood under his nails.

The hand on his chest slid across is upper torso, brushing against his cloth-covered nipples. He cried out, but he wasn't sure if it was out of pain or pleasure. The hand trailed down his arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. It grasped Harry's hand and lifted it up. Crying out hoarsely again, his fingers were enveloped by a cold mouth, and he couldn't stop writhing against Abraham. The slippery tongue swept over his fingers and Harry felt one of the vampire's sharp canines nick his skin, drawing out more blood. He moaned as Abraham sucked on his fingers and lapped at his hand.

This was wrong. Harry was too hot and Abraham was too cold. If this pain- this contrast of extreme heat and chill- didn't stop, he was sure he was going to die. He turned his flushed faces to the side and burrowed into the vampire's neck. This was wrong because this was Abraham. Most of all, this was wrong because life was leaving him.

He attached his lips to Abraham's cool neck and sucked.

 _Give me back my life_ , his fevered mind screamed.

 _Give me your life_ , the curse snarled angrily.

Abraham chuckled, and it sent a bone-chilling shiver down Harry's spine. "Aren't you eager? Don't worry, pet. We'll have all the time in the world."

"No, I won't let you do such a thing. I'd rather die." The words felt weak and meaningless to him though.

"You'll get your chance then," the vampire hissed. "You have no choice. The curse has advanced to such a stage that it can't be suppressed for much longer. If you do not accept me, you will simply kill those closest to you, including Severus."

At the mention of Snape's given name, Harry felt his world ground itself again. He thrust his elbow back and threw all his weight into throwing off Abraham. He ignored the sting of ripping his hand out of the vampire's mouth and teeth. Licking the droplets of blood camouflaged against the redness of his lips, Abraham stepped back. Harry brought his wounded hand to his chest and leveled his wand with his relatively unharmed hand.

"I'll find a way. I refuse to become a monster like you or Voldemort," he felt his rage gathering at the tip of his wand without even incanting a spell. "And even if I don't… The only life I need to take is yours!"

The curse howled in triumph underneath the surface. For the first time, he allowed the primal urges inspired by the curse to take full rein of his senses. He would do whatever it took to destroy Abraham.

Abraham just stood there and smirked at him. Harry felt his ire rise to the next level.

"Your blood is delicious. Would you like a taste of mine?"

Before Harry could even reply, Abraham lifted a hand to his lips and drew back his sleeve. He dragged a canine across his wrist and presented the bleeding limb to Harry. Harry's nostrils flared at the first scent of blood and his world tipped over on its axis again. The curse interpreted Abraham's offering of blood as acquiesce of his life. He salivated at the mere thought of tasting the vampire's life essence- one so many centuries old. Throwing his wand to the floor, he barely acknowledged the sound of the wood hitting the stone and rolling away. He lunged forward and grabbed Abraham's wrist.

"That's it. Drink, Harry, and all of you will soon belong to me. No one can stand between us."

The first drop of the vampire's blood hit his tongue and he was sure he had found heaven. A myriad of tastes assaulted his taste buds. He could taste Darkness itself in Abraham's blood. It was smooth, rich, and deep- like dark chocolate and black coffee. It was nothing short of seduction in liquid form. The tendrils of its powers wrapped around him and cocooned his body in its deep warmth.

He was never going to let this go.

Harry's senses became even sharper than before. He could hear Abraham's shallow breath rushing through every ancient tunnel and cavern of his body. When a hand settled in his hair and petted him gently, he purred against the bloody wrist. The iron tang of blood smelled like a feast to Harry. The hand in his hair moved across the back of his head and settled on the back of his neck, cradling him steadily. This was what he had been searching for…

 _No_ , the curse protested. _This wasn't life. Blood wasn't life._

It wanted life.

Harry ripped his mouth away from Abraham's wrist and spat out a mouthful of blood. He could no longer taste the sweet Darkness and only the rusty metallic taste. The curse was right. He needed life, not blood. He wasn't a ruddy vampire. He needed to taste Abraham's life essence.

"Potter!"

He froze as he felt a familiar presence enter the corridor. The scent of dark smoke and burnt sage filled the air. He inclined his head toward the interesting newcomer.

The curse rejoiced at arrival of this newcomer. This one would be far more appetizing.

-x-x-x-

"Potter!" Severus shouted when he spotted the boy from down the corridor.

Potter's body stiffened at the sound of his voice and swayed on his feet. Severus quickened his pace and grabbed Potter's arm to help the boy maintain his balance. He pulled Potter back- away from the grinning vampire.

He looked down and saw the drizzle of blood at the corner of Potter's mouth. His eyes flickered frantically between Abraham's bloody wrist and Potter's bloodied lips. Dear Merlin, was he already too late?

Abraham offered him a feral smile that showed off his teeth. "Don't worry, Severus. I haven't changed him yet. I was simply giving my Harry a taste of what's to come."

"You'll do nothing of that sort to Potter, vampire." He snarled and drew his former student back several more steps.

"It's too late, Severus. He has already partaken of my blood. Harry Potter belongs to me in every possible way."

Severus was about to hex the vampire when a strong hand grabbed a hold of his wand hand. He glared down at Potter with his forehead lying against Severus' shoulder. He tried to shake off Potter's hand, but the brat refused to let go and the brat's grip only tightened.

"Let go. Don't get in my way." He ordered.

"No," came the quiet reply.

"Pardon?"

Potter raised his head and gave Severus a blood-encrusted grin. He felt his heart freeze at the unexpected sight. The boy's other hand crept up his torso and settled on the back of his neck. The hand tugged his head down with surprising strength.

His hair fell over their faces like a curtain as he was forced to tip his head down. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

"Taking what's mine."

Severus didn't have a chance to protest when Potter sealed his lips to his. It took a few moments for him mind to register what was going on. Potter's lips were warm and pliant against his. Potter's other hand released his wand and tangled itself in his hair. He tried to pull away, but the brat refused to relent. Potter pressed the whole length of his body against him, and he was relieved to find a lack of the tell-tale chill of a vampire. Potter added more pressure, trying to force his mouth to open.

Potter kissed like a man possessed. He kissed like a man intent on possessing Severus. Severus was horrified to find a small part of him enjoying this- wanting this. He damned his body for being so quick to betray his mind. It had been a long time since he had anyone proposition him in this manner. An unexpected arousal spiked in his blood, leaving him hot, uncomfortable, and wanting. No, this was madness and he couldn't allow this to continue. Yet, he was caught frozen in Potter's embrace and kiss.

A tongue swiped across his lips. Laying his free hand on the brat's chest, he tried to push the boy away without succumbing to the pressure on his lips. He grabbed Potter's forearm instead and tried once again unsuccessfully. The brat caught Severus' bottom lips between his teeth, and when he tried harder to pry Potter off, Potter tugged harder on his lower lip. Severus felt skin break and the copper tang of blood flooded his taste buds.

Potter pulled away from his lips to lap at the blood. Severus could see the hazed look in the brat's eyes. There was no way he could be sure who was in control of Potter at the moment. Was it Potter, the vampire, or the curse? Better yet, which curse ruled Potter's senses now?

He narrowed his eyes and pressed the tip of his wand against the boy's upper torso. Potter's tongue stilled against the edge of the cut on his lips.

" _Stupedfy_."

Potter's eyes rolled back and Severus managed to catch the boy before he hit the floor. Grunting, his knees buckled under the extra weight. Potter was surprisingly heavy. In retrospective, he supposed that wasn't the best spell to cast directly into the boy's ribcage but since Potter was supposed to be such a powerful wizard, Severus couldn't afford to be careless. He needed Potter down with the first blow before the brat had a chance to retaliate.

Abraham let out a loud guffaw. "You look utterly ravished, Severus. Enjoy that, did you?"

He turned his wand back at the vampire. " _Incendio_."

The fire met a crumbling wall instead, leaving scorch marks on the stone. Juggling Potter's weight as best as he could, he turned about and tried to locate Abraham. "I don't know what game you're playing at, vampire, nor do I care. Show yourself. I have yet to pay you back for all you've done to Shavonne."

"Tell me, is it painful to be that naïve? You are nowhere near my equal. The Snape blood is wasted on the likes of you. Your treachery knows no bounds, but that is something you inherited from your father, just as he inherited it from his father before him. Nothing but a line of rotten fruits from the loin of my double-crossing uncle."

"You talk too much, vampire. Now show yourself."

"I want you to know exactly why you must suffer."

He snorted. "The sins of an ancestor who has been dead for centuries? Do you really believe you can be satisfied with this?"

"No, I will take everything from you. I will have everything that is rightfully mine but has been denied to me all along. I will have this castle. I will have your head. I will have Harry Potter as well."

He spun on his heels and edged toward the wall with the faded painting. "You will never have Harry Potter."

"And why not? Would you have him in your world? The son of the man who tormented you for so many years?"

Severus was struck by a sudden epiphany, one that Albus had been trying to get him to see for years. "The sins of the father are not that of the son's."

"But you have never treated Harry with that principle in mind, have you? You have done nothing but punish Harry for the sins of his father for years. Why should I treat you with anymore courtesy than that which you have treated my Harry with?" the vampire advanced toward him. "Just leave him here and you may live to see another day."

He looked down at the peaceful and sleep-like face of the aforementioned Harry Potter. The ungrateful little bastard. Here, he was fighting for his pathetic little life and Potter couldn't even keep his senses long enough to hit the vampire with the supposed awesome power he possessed. The petty and vindictive part of him almost wanted to give Potter to Abraham out of spite. He would get an earful from Albus though- and the old coot always had a way of finding out.

"As much as I loathe the idea of having Harry Potter back, there are a great number of people awaiting his return. I'm afraid it would be my head they would have if I hand him over to you now." Severus swiped his wand across the tip of his index finger of his left hand and blood welled in the cut. Juggling Potter in the other arm, he smeared his blood on the outer contour of the blood seal. The seal glowed and he growled one word, " _Semoveo_."

Abraham threw his head back and laughed, "Not nearly good enough, Severus. Your blood is far too diluted, too impure. You, the descendant of my treacherous uncle and whom all sins have been passed onto, cannot defeat me. Even the all-powerful Harry Potter is under my powers."

Severus growled and pressed his finger harder against the painting, drawing out every drop of blood possible, " _Semoveo_."

The vampire stumbled briefly as if a load of weight had been suddenly dumped on his shoulders. He drew his hand away from the painting and made a cut across his palm this time. Abraham growled and charged forward, hair bristling on his skin into a pelt of fur as his face elongated to form a snout. Abraham snarled, showing rows of jagged sharp teeth, and he leaped at Severus.

Severus slammed his palm against the seal and shouted, " _Semoveo!_ "

Abraham gave a wounded cry and fell back. Tightening his grip around Potter's waist, he leaned back against the wall. He fumbled with his wand to point it at the misshapen man-animal struggling to breathe on the floor. " _Semoveo_. _Crudus_."

Blood began pouring from Abraham's pores, matting the black pelt of fur that refused to vanish completely. The vampire-turned-misshapen-beast slid back along the floor, leaving a trail of red in his wake. Severus was about to hit the vampire with another curse when Abraham shifted shapes again. A large bat took off clumsily and swept through the air in a drunken-like manner. It vanished quickly into the darkness.

Severus pulled his hand away from the seal to rearrange his grip on Potter. He scowled at his throbbing left hand, sticky with blood and a hint of sweat. He turned his scorn onto the peaceful-looking Potter. "As always I'm the one to save your sorry arse and clean up your messes. I see the years have done nothing to temper your heroic Gryffindor tendencies."

-x-x-x-

Harry awoke to warmth and the barely familiar scent of age and mold. He stared up at the peeling ceiling and wondered what had happened. Had Abraham taken him captive? He could barely remember what happened after he stepped back into Snape Castle.

"I see you're finally awake."

He shot up into a sitting position and turned to face Snape sitting on the other bed. "Snape? How did you find me?"

Snape didn't reply as he crossed the length of the small room to dump a silver bundle in his lap. It was his invisibility cloak. Sneaking a peek at Snape, Harry wondered what the older man thought about this. He clutched the fabric closer to his chest and muttered, "Thanks."

"I see you still treat that cloak like a security blanket, Potter." Snape's tone was even more cutting than usual, lined with a suppressed tension like a drawn string about to snap.

He congratulated himself for not giving any outwardly obvious signs that he was panicking- or at least he hoped. He turned his head slowly and up to look at the older man hovering over him. He blinked in confusion and placed on his most vacant expression. "Pardon?"

Snape's face turned red from rage. "Don't play dumb with me, Potter. I've had quite enough of your lies."

"I think you're mistaken, Professor. There's no way I could be Harry Potter."

He moved back toward the other side of the bed when Snape leaned over until his face was level with Harry's. Snape grabbed Harry's bangs and pulled them back. The older man tapped a finger against the lightning bolt scar that was visible to the world now. "You think you're so clever, don't you, Potter?" a spittle landed on his left cheek. "I can see your roots. They're black. Jessica told me you wore color contacts. Even Longbottom can put two and two together."

Harry closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, only to be assaulted by a scent of sage and dark smoke. "You're mad."

Snape's hand moved from his forehead to grab his left hand, tightening his vice grip when Harry tried to pull the hand back. The man threw back the sleeve. "It's hard to forget your atrocious penmanship after grading seven years of rubbish in that hand. You even kept your souvenir from Umbridge. Did you really think the scar on your forehead is your only distinguishing mark? Do you think me so oblivious not to notice this scar in the three years afterwards?"

He was cornered, and both Snape and he knew it. "I…I…"

"And Durmstrang, Potter? Even I thought you had more brains than that."

How did Snape always manage to make him feel like child?

"How are you going to explain this little escapade? What were you trying to accomplish by doing all this?"

Harry's eyes snapped open and he glared defiantly at the face hovering just centimeters away from his. "I'm not your student anymore. You don't have any power over me, Snape."

"Really?" Malice shone brightly in Snape's eyes. "Shall I administer Veritaserum? Or should I contact the Ministry? Albus? Who would you ultimately rather face? Me or someone else?"

"You're just forcing the choice on me."

Snape's hand tightened in his hair and he yanked Harry's head back. "I don't appreciate being lied to, especially with the way you continue to make a fool of me to this day."

"Not everything revolves around you," Harry spat. "So now you know my deep dark secret. So what? What could you possibly do to me?"

"That is where you are sadly mistaken. I can do a lot of damage to you with the information I currently possess. Imagine how this would look to the Ministry, Harry Potter returns six years later from Merlin knows where, infected with both the Lifelust and vampiric Bloodlust Curses. Every wizard and witch knows about the extent of your power. It wouldn't be long before they decide you are a danger to society. Unbalanced…Dark…and powerful… In their eyes, you'd be nothing more than a Dark Lord in making. You're already halfway to becoming a vampire, Potter. Do you think they'll simply imprison you? No, that would be too much of a risk. After all, Sirius bloody Black managed to break out of Azkaban. It would be a mere convenience to the great Harry Potter. Perhaps a Dementor's Kiss would be a more suitable form of execution?"

He knew Snape spoke nothing but the truth. "You bastard."

"Do you hate me, Potter? Do you want to rip out my throat?" The older man sneered, yet he still managed to look pleased with the damage he had dealt.

There were no words to describe how he felt at the moment. Everything was a tumult of stormy emotions and half-baked ideas. Oh, he did hate Snape. He hated Snape for finding out about his secret. He hated Snape for confronting him in this manner. He hated Snape for forcing his hand. Yet, he didn't hate Snape the man. Those sentiments had long faded in the presence of apathy, but that apathy was gone now too.

He reached up and grabbed the lapel of Snape's robes. His other hand was twisting the cloak in his lap. "Why are you doing this to me? What do you want from me?"

Narrowing his eyes, Snape removed the hand twined in Harry's bangs to take a hold of the Harry's hand on his lapel instead. He suddenly leaped across the small gap between them and the older man's thin lips meshed messily against Harry's.

He was thrown off-balance by the swing of Snape's weight against him and fell back against the wall in a half-lounging position. A jolt of pain shot up his spine. Snape's hands now rested on either side of Harry's body, pinning Harry's hands against the bed sheets.

He tried to buck the older man off him, but Snape climbed onto the bed and straddled his legs. Snape's lips moved in a demanding manner over his, and just like everything else about the man, it commanded Harry's undivided attention. A small part of him conceded it was nice to be kissed like this- to be kissed so wholeheartedly. A larger part noted that he rarely kissed or was rarely kissed.

Snape's hair brushed against Harry's cheek. It felt as greasy as it looked. His former professor's prodigious nose bumped against his own every so often. The situation could only be made awkward if he still wore glasses. The situation was still awkward because it made Harry feel inadequate. The realm of romance, much less sexuality, would always be a mystery to him, and he hated feeling inexperienced or clumsy at anything.

Harry gasped when he finally realized that the slick wet appendage probing his mouth was Snape's tongue, opening his mouth wider to the other man's on slaughter. His head bumped repeatedly against the wall behind him when he tried to turn his head to avoid Snape's lips.

He didn't know how long he had been trapped against that bed. It felt like an eternity compounded into a few mere seconds. His head spin and something hot surged through his blood. At first, he mistaken it for his curse, but it wasn't. Warmth and arousal flooded his senses and he felt the urge to kiss Snape back, to make the older man feel in the same way he made Harry. His chest arched up to make contact with the body hovering over him, to rub against it.

It was over as suddenly as it begun, but Harry knew the sensations had left an indelible mark on him. "You bastard," he wiped his lips, his face burning with embarrassment and rage. "How dare you?"

"I was just returning the favor." Snape's lips curled in triumph and he glanced down at the obvious bulge in Harry's pants. "You don't appear to be particularly averse towards the situation."

Harry turned away and buried his face in his hands. He tried desperately to will his erection away. "Dear Merlin, don't tell me that I…" He vaguely recalled the experience of drinking Abraham's blood, but he drew a large blank when it came to everything that happened after that.

"You weren't in your right mind." The other man slid off the bed and stood. He fidgeted with his clothing in what appeared to be a slightly nervous manner, but that was impossible- Snape would never be unnerved around him. He licked his lips again and Harry's cock gave an interested twitch, "You were probably torn between the demands of both curses inflicted upon you."

"I still can't believe I…" He peeked at Snape from under hooded lids.

"I needed to see how much of the curses' effects lingered in your conscious state." Snape snapped and crossed his arms over his chest. "Think nothing more of it."

He looked up and finally noticed the cut on Snape's lip. "You're bleeding."

"Well, Potter, do you feel the urge to slit my throat and drink me dry?"

He furrowed his brows and searched for the slightest sign of his curse acting up. "No."

"Good, we'll leave in the morning," Snape marched to the other side of the room and picked something off the desk. He turned and held up Harry's wand. "I'll keep this in the meantime."

"Oi!" Harry rummaged through his robes.

"You'll get it back in the morning, Potter. If there are any threats, I'm sure your wandless magic will be sufficient."

He pulled his hand out of his robe and asked the only question left to ask, "Where are we?"

"The Leaky Cauldron."

-x-x-x-

Severus smirked as he heard a quiet hiss of pain echo through the room, and he watched as Potter cringe at the all-too-loud noise. If his estimation was correct, it was about an hour after midnight, and three hours since Potter retired to the bed and him to his chair. Severus had the nagging suspicion Potter might try and run away, as strangely uncharacteristic as that might seem.

He rose silently from his vigil by the window and snuck up behind Potter, who was still contemplating the warded door. He made no sound as he moved and almost grinned in satisfaction when Potter jumped at the feel of Severus' hand on his shoulder.

"Trying to escape, Potter? Has your legendary courage abandoned?" He sneered.

Potter's shoulders slumped and then straightened with determination. It was as obvious as watching the emotions play across the boy's place. Potter always did wear his bloody heart on his sleeve.

"You wouldn't believe me if I said I wanted a cuppa?" Potter's shoulders rose and fell with his words, their movement punctuated further by his deep breathing.

He was quickly becoming annoyed staring at Potter's broad back. The boy shouldn't be that tall- shouldn't have filled out that much. "Face me when you're speaking to me." He snarled.

Potter didn't move to obey at first, but he turned with the slow yet deliberate movements of someone with much to fear confronting. It was moments like that Severus found himself wanting to take hold of the boy and shake some sense into that impossibly thick head. He was well-acquainted with that urge after teaching Potter for seven years and became quite adept at resisting it too.

The lights had been turned off an hour ago, so the only source of light at the moment was from the moon hanging outside their window with curtains thrown open. Rays of light, more of a pale sickly yellow or beige than silver, crept across the creaking floorboards and only allowed Severus just the most shadowed glimpse of the brat's face.

The severity of the situation, as he himself had laid it out for Potter earlier, finally hit him. The reality of a vampire was notoriously hard to distinguish from that of the lore. They certainly didn't perform magic in the way wizards did. No one was even sure if the magic vampires acquired was even related to wizardry. Harry Potter was an unusually gifted wizard. What sort of powers would Potter be endowed with if he completed his transformation?

Severus thought absolute control over the night might not have been such a ridiculous guess.

"Let me go."

He thought his ears might have been deceiving him. It almost sounded like a command. At the same time, there was even more force of will behind that statement than he was used to hearing.

"I cannot do that."

"Fine. _Stupefy._ "

Severus barely dropped in time to avoid the red streak of magic.

"You shouldn't have underestimated me."

He didn't need Potter of all people to lecture him. When he climbed back to his feet, he became aware that the self-inflicted wound, which he had neglected to heal afterwards, had reopened and blood had welled in the cut. Ignoring the bleeding cut in favor of the shadowed figure in front of him that had somehow managed to conceal a second wand, Severus whipped out his wand and fired a curse in return.

They continued for several minutes, throwing various hexes and curses at each other and anything else that moved suddenly in the darkness of the room. Severus didn't care how they were damaging the room. He would make Siobhan pay for the damages. She had more money than she knew what to do with.

Somehow and sometime during the course of their duel, Severus managed to lay a hand on Potter. The boy visibly froze when that happened, the moment stretching on awkwardly and seemingly infinitely. A shaft of light that fell across Potter's face revealed flared nostrils and the corner of taut lips.

"You're bleeding." The brat said in the flattest of tones.

"How kind of you to notice," he replied in a similar tone, but he did have to wonder exactly how Potter could tell.

He immediately stepped back when he saw Potter's pink tongue dart out the corner of his mouth. Waving his wand and muttering a quick incantation, he summoned the light back into the room. Light certainly didn't deter vampires, but it would help him to see.

Another moment of that strange and eternal-like quiet descended upon them. Potter's eyes remained glued to Severus' hand, where he could feel the blood trickling down the length of his palm. He watched Potter in return, waiting for any sign or twitch of a muscle that would indicate the boy's intent to attack.

Potter straightened his shoulders with an expression that Severus found hard to connect with that of a vampire's. It was full of a determination that was both familiar and human.

He leveled his wand and jabbed Potter's chest with it when the other man got close enough, keeping him at a bit more than arm's length.

For a second, Severus almost thought he saw a pleading look in Potter's gray eyes. "You really need to heal that."

Potter then struck with the swiftness of Severus' House mascot. It hit him that he must be getting old if he couldn't stop Potter like this. The brat grabbed Severus' bleeding hand but cradled it with an unexpected gentleness. The tip of Severus' wand was pressed into Potter's collarbone while the boy passed his wand over the wounded hand, muttering, " _Medicor_."

What actually happened was the exact opposite of what was expected.

The cut split open and drew blood quickly to the broken surface. Potter dropped his hand like a hot coal and took several steps back. He stared at the renewed bleeding of the cut before lifting his gaze to glare darkly at Potter.

He recalled Potter saying early on that he couldn't use healing spells. Was this why?

"You can't do anything right, can you?" he intoned bitterly.

Potter opened his mouth to speak, but then shut it after thinking better of the notion.

Severus healed himself and then searched through his pockets for a healing ointment. After smearing a dab of ointment over the healed cut, he looked up to find Potter contemplating the warded door again and then Severus.

"You can forget about it. I won't allow you to escape so easily."

Potter looked down in what Severus thought was shame at first. It was only later that he realized Potter was staring at his blood drying on the floorboard.


	13. Kinship

Harry and Snape walked up the front steps of Hogwarts at approximately eight the next morning. Harry had returned not of his own free will. He had tried to escape during the night but hadn't expected Snape to put up wards. It had been nothing more than a battle of will between the two of them after that, but he had fallen asleep first sometime before dawn. Come morning, Snape presented him with two choices: Hogwarts or the Ministry. Harry chose the lesser of two evils.

Dumbledore and Siobhan were waiting for them at the top of the stairs.

"Where were the two of you!" Siobhan exclaimed.

The headmaster stood in the background and watched them with a contemplative expression.

"We went back to the castle." Snape brushed past his aunt in a careless manner.

"The castle! But the vampire!" she waved her arms frantically. "You can't just take off like that and not leave a word for the rest of us."

Snape snorted. "We're grown men. We hardly need you to play sitter."

"Did you discover anything interesting, Severus?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly.

Snape stopped dead in his track and Harry's breath was caught in his throat. His identity was about to be revealed. Snape was going to tell them because Snape reported _everything_ to Dumbledore. Harry took a shaky step back, muscles tense and ready to flee at any moment's notice. He couldn't remember the last time since Voldemort he had been this terrified of anything.

"Abraham is… _family_." The older man turned his head and sneered unpleasantly back at them.

"What?" Siobhan exclaimed, placing her hands on her hip and looking every inch the stern mother- just not Snape's. "Severus, get back here this instant and tell me everything."

"It can wait until after breakfast." The teacher pushed open the front doors and entered the castle.

Harry quickly shook himself out of his stupor and went after Snape. He caught up with his former professor not far from the door and looked back to make sure the other two were out of hearing range.

"Wait, Snape."

Snape ignored his call and continued toward the Great Hall. Harry growled and grabbed the trailing end of the man's sleeve.

"What?"

"Why didn't you tell them?" He gritted his teeth together.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Snape yanked his sleeve out of his grip and swept away in a fury of black.

He stared after the dark figure and cursed under his breath. He was beginning to think it might have been a good thing if Snape had told everyone, so it was all done with. It had to be better than the bastard holding it over his head like this.

-x-x-x-

Harry skipped breakfast in the Great Hall and went straight to the kitchens instead. He wasn't going to sit at the same table, and have Snape subtly threaten and blackmail him throughout the meal. He was going to get enough of that later.

He looked around the deserted kitchen. A house-elf had appeared immediately to serve him and then promptly vanished. Since it was the summer, there wasn't a need to prepare copious amounts of food. He wondered what the house-elves did with their free time. They were probably cleaning some other part of the castle then. He couldn't imagine them doing anything other than cleaning for fun and didn't suppose they croqueted as a hobby.

The door swung open and he reached for his wand. He couldn't be so unlucky that Snape was looking for him now.

"There you are, Cedric!"

"Hermione?"

The bushy-haired woman scrunched her nose in disapproval as she approached him seated at the table. Harry fought to keep a grin from his face when he suddenly recalled S.P.E.W. and all her efforts to liberate the house-elves to no avail. He wondered if she was still trying to trick them into taking articles of clothing. Harry conjured the image of Hermione's rooms in complete disarray, covered in knitted socks, books, and the likes, because the house-elves were afraid to enter her rooms. He snickered.

Hermione placed her hands on her hips. "And what's so funny?"

"Nothing," he shook his head. "You just remind me of an old school friend."

"You went to Durmstrang, correct? You must have known Viktor Krum then." Her eyes lit up at the reminder of her first sort-of-boyfriend.

"Yes, he was a few years ahead of me."

"How is he these days?"

"I'm not sure. I didn't know him that well." He forced an awkward smile.

She sighed. "That's a pity."

"If you, um," he waved his hand about in a vague manner. "Knew him, why don't you write to him?"

She smiled sadly. "It doesn't feel right to do something like that, even after all these years."

"And why not? Your fiancé has been dead for so many years now. I'm sure he would want you to be happy no matter what."

Her eyes widened. "How do you know about Ron?"

Harry bit his tongue to keep from swearing. He was becoming careless. At this rate, he was going to blow his cover on his own without any of Snape's interference. "Uh, I overheard it from Snape. I hope you don't mind."

"It's alright. I was just caught by surprise, but I suppose it'd be a wonder if you didn't know by now. I really do miss Ron dearly. It's not guilt, but something else. Now I'm just being silly."

He shook his head. "No, that makes sense." Hermione was too sensible to be held down by guilt in that manner. She would always be stronger than that.

She suddenly reached over and stroked the area around his eye. Against his mind's command, his hand shot out and knocked her away.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione. It's just that my reflex-"

"No need to apologize. I should have known better. You're like an Auror in that sense," she smiled warily. "Alastor always warned me about acting like that. It's just that your eyes are red. Is something the matter?"

Harry rubbed his eyes and cursed Snape again under his breath. It wasn't Snape's fault that he had forgotten to take out his contacts the night before, but he was still going to blame it on the man because he could. He had been planning to escape anyway and he wouldn't have done it blind as a bat. He should have gone to his rooms for a change of clothing and contacts after he returned to Hogwarts.

"It's nothing," he reassured her. "I just need my eye drops."

"Oh, I can help with that!" She whipped her wand out and leveled it with his eyes. " _Oculus solamen_. How's that?"

The itchiness and the burning in his eyes went away immediately. "Fantastic. Thanks."

Hermione always did know the most obscure and useful spells.

"You're welcome." She pocketed her wand with that familiar self-satisfied smile he had known since he was eleven.

"Did you come down here for a particular reason?"

"Oh, right. The Headmaster wants you in the hospital wing for the meeting."

"Meeting?"

"Headmaster Dumbledore wants to know about your experiences at Snape Castle yesterday."

He scowled. "Why is he interfering? This is between me and the Snapes. I said I'd take care of it."

"The Headmaster's just concerned. We are talking about a vampire here, not a Hinkypunk. There are bylaws and such to be considered in these situations. You can't just go around killing living creatures like that. It's no better than enslaving these house-elves." She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him in an accusatory manner.

"Vampires are a lot more dangerous than Hinkypunks, and we've already had this discussion before," he narrowed his eyes. It wasn't as if he did everything because he wanted to. "I don't tell you how to do your job, so don't tell me how to do mine."

He pushed past her and left the kitchen. He didn't have much of an appetite anymore.

-x-x-x-

Severus glared at the opposite wall of the hospital wing. He didn't see why Minerva was here. Shouldn't she be busy handling the incoming class? The old cat had no reason to be listening in or participating in this farce of a meeting. Over twenty years and Albus still held the reins on his life.

He shot a glare at Poppy, who was checking on Shavonne's condition. No doubt, she was going to listen in as well. He admitted that his cousin was looking much better already.

"Ouch!" Shavonne exclaimed when the mediwitch drew another container of blood for testing. "I thought I was already in the clear. Why do you have to keep testing it?"

The doors to the hospital wing flew open with a loud thud. Potter marched into the room with an agitated expression and Granger trailed behind him.

 _Wonderful_ , he thought, _no doubt she'll want to know what's happening as well._

Potter stopped short of Shavonne's bed when he caught sight of the container of blood in Poppy's hand. Severus saw the man's hands begin to tremble right before he shoved them into his robe pockets. The younger man's nostrils were flared, and his body drawn taut like a bow string. Severus blinked and the moment had passed. Potter crossed the last few feet to Shavonne's bed and greeted her with a big smile.

He narrowed his eyes. He was sure he had seen what he saw. The curses were already beginning to take their toll on Potter's control.

Albus clapped his hands together and smiled. "I see everyone is assembled now."

Neither he nor Potter suppressed the death glare they each threw at the headmaster.

"Do tell us about what you discovered yesterday." Albus urged them.

Potter glanced at him, a question in his gaze. Severus simply looked away and refused to acknowledge the other man. He wasn't going to be so quick to expose Potter's true identity. It may still be of use yet.

The brat sighed and took a deep breath. "We at least now know how Abraham got into the castle even though no one has ever invited him. It even explains why Nott was able to come in through the Floo."

"Is something wrong with the wards?" Shavonne piqued.

"No," Potter shook his head. "The wards are perfectly fine."

"Then why didn't it keep the vampire out?" Sinclair asked.

"Simple. We all know that vampires can't enter a wizarding home without permission. That is not always the case with Muggle homes, but that's besides the point here. However, if a vampire has some sort of legitimate claim to the land…"

Siobhan stared at Potter in abject horror before turning to look at Severus. "Is this what you meant when you said he was family?"

Potter nodded his head grimly. "Exactly, Lord Abraham Snape, the seventh Lord Latimer of Snape."

"So he's your ancestor?" Draco raised an eyebrow in surprise. "I always knew you were an interesting lot if nothing else."

He rolled his eyes. He reached inside his robes and drew out a thick leather-bound book. He held it up and said, "This is the Snape genealogy. I took it from the library before I left the castle yesterday," he glanced at Potter out of the corner of his eyes and smirked. "After saving Wesley's sorry arse."

Potter bristled.

"Is he in there?" Granger asked.

He tapped his wand against the book and chanted, " _Quaero Abraham Snape._ "

The book fell open, and the pages began turning on their own. After a few seconds, the pages fell open somewhere near the beginning of the book.

"Abraham Snape was born a Squib on November first, 1631 and died in 1657. The cause of death is not disclosed. He was unwed and had no children. He was succeeded by his great uncle, Thomas Snape," he passed the book to Siobhan. "I suppose that would make us cousins."

"Very distant ones, but not distant enough for him to be excluded from your general blood-bound spells and wards without any restrictions placed." Draco muttered.

"That explains why Abraham was able to make his way into the castle on his own, but not how he was able to bring Nott past the wards," said Jessica. "That only answers half the question."

"That's simple," Potter muttered. Everyone turned to stare at him. "In terms of length of residence, Abraham is the one who has the most seniority. I don't think he's left the castle since his supposed death in the seventeenth century."

"But that can't be," Siobhan protested. "The generations afterwards must have noticed something. Albus just told me this morning there hasn't even been a vampire in North Yorkshire in the last fifty years. A vampire would never be able to resist the impulse to feed for more than a few weeks."

"It's because of a blood seal." Severus thought back to his less than ego-boosting attempt to seal the vampire. "He was bound to the ruins of the North Tower by a blood seal. Our bloodline was the foundation of the seal."

"That would mean as soon as the bloodline left the soil, he would have been released." Granger gasped. Severus swore he could almost hear the gears turning furiously in her head.

"And that's exactly what happened when I abandoned that wretched place over twenty years ago before it fell into the Ministry's hands." He glared at the wall.

"Now it all makes sense," Siobhan muttered. "The North Tower, our forefathers' warnings, everything…"

"That's nice and all, but that still doesn't tell us what to do about the vampire." Jessica grumbled.

"Simple," he glared unwaveringly at the group before him. "We kill it."

"You can't just do that." Granger shouted.

"And why not?"

"There are laws against that!"

Potter surprised them all by being the first to contest Granger. "Actually, Abraham was changed and sealed away before the present Ministry of Magic even came into existence. He's not registered with the Ministry. No one would be any the wiser if Abraham Snape vanished off the face of the earth. For all intents and purpose, Abraham has been dead to the world for more than two centuries."

"How can you say that, Cedric! He's still a sentient being!"

"He's a danger to society, to wizards and Muggles alike," Potter snapped. "Even if he was human, you still can't let him get away with all that he's done."

"You said it yourself, Abraham is from a time before the Ministry and its current regulations. It's not right to kill him before you've had a chance to familiarize him with the laws!" Granger screeched. "He doesn't know better!"

"I beg to differ. As far as we know, Abraham has been among us for almost twenty years now. That's more than enough time to learn about the laws concerning his kind." Potter countered coldly. "And what do these laws say about vampires that drink without permission and victimize wizards, witches, and Muggles alike?"

Severus smirked as he answered, "They get the death sentence, of course. Mind you, the Department has more experienced vampire hunters for jobs like that than the likes of an executor like McNair."

"What about the blood seal? Can't you seal him away again instead?"

"Our current bloodline is too far removed from the vampire's. We have very little chance of being able to fully activate the seal because of that," he glanced at Granger out of the corner of his eyes. "Granger, you're smart enough to know what is required to draw a whole new blood seal. Who do you suggest we sacrifice for that purpose (1)?"

Granger's glare moved back and forth between Potter and himself. Sometimes the girl just lost all sense when it came to the civil liberties of some. "You're just like those despicable Hunters. You're not the law onto yourself." She turned away in disgust.

The brief expression of hurt on Potter's face was quickly overtaken by a harder one. "No, I'm not the law, but the laws do clearly state what must happen to him. He has been around for the last twenty odd years now. He must know what the current laws for vampires are. He willingly broke those laws and attacked innocents. He needs to be put down and if it's not going to be me, then it's going to be the Ministry."

Jessica stepped between Potter and Granger, trying to settle both of them down. Even he was a bit surprised by Potter's continued insistence to obliterate the vampire. He would have never thought it was in the boy's nature to want to kill in this manner. Perhaps the years had done more to Potter than Severus originally suspected.

He turned to Albus and asked, "You say there hasn't been a vampire registered in that area, but has there been any reason to suspect there was a vampire in the area?"

"Indeed, the Ministry has sent officers and Aurors there to investigate the possibility several times but they were never able to reach a consensus. There isn't a large enough wizarding population there for the Ministry to worry about it."

"They're the truly despicable ones." Siobhan spat.

"What would you advise we do, Albus?" He asked.

"It is not my place to say."

"But you still will," He glared at the appearance of the older man's deceptively benign smile. "You always make your opinions known."

"It is your castle and your ancestor, Severus. I believe that decision rests with Siobhan and you."

-x-x-x-

"Mister Wesley, if you can stay for a few minutes, I would like a few words with you."

Harry nodded slowly despite the fact he was willing to be almost anywhere else at the moment. Had Snape already informed Dumbledore of his identity?

Dumbledore continued to smile in that way Harry had long learned to distrust. "Walk with me please."

He gave Snape one last look before following Dumbledore out of the hospital wing with great hesitation. Dumbledore led him on a familiar route- the one toward the Headmaster's office. Listening to the collective sound of their resounding footsteps, he was surprised by how firm the headmaster's footfall was in comparison with his. The portraits whispered across frames as they passed.

"Perhaps there is another reason for why you are so adamant to kill this vampire?"

He gave a small start, "What makes you say that?" Whatever he thought Dumbledore was going to speak about with him, it wasn't this.

"Severus saw fit to tell about your curse. He holds the belief that you pose a threat." Dumbledore folded his hands behind his back. "He also tells me that the vampire is infatuated with you, intent on possessing you in every way possible."

"No doubt Snape told you I drank his blood then." He peered at the headmaster out of the corner of his eyes.

"No, but I suspected. If that is the truth, then I suggest you do your best to persuade both Siobhan and Severus to allow you to put the vampire down." Dumbledore stopped and turned to face Harry. The old wizard regarded him speculatively over his half-moon glasses. "The Bloodlust Curse is not a matter to be taken lightly. It's impossible to tell how it will react to the Lifelust Curse you're already inflicted with. You may be an incredible wizard to have withstood the Lifelust Curse for the last six years, but even you will cave under the pressure of both curses. I don't know what you know about vampires, but the Bloodlust Curse will force the change upon you. You will become a monster of the worse kind, Mister Wesley."

He swallowed the lump that developed in his throat as Dumbledore spoke. How did he manage to bullocks it up every time? Was he really that unlucky? "I'll keep your advice in mind, sir."

Dumbledore nodded and turned away. "That is all I want to say. Please use the utmost caution, Mister Wesley. I'll leave you two to talk then." And the headmaster swept past him in a storm of bright lime green.

"Cedric?"

His shoulders tensed at the sound of Jessica's voice. Dumbledore just couldn't give him anymore warning than that.

 _My life was really nothing more than a comedy of errors,_ he thought bitterly, _if I'm lucky, it'll end sooner than I originally thought._

"Cedric, please. Explain to me what I just heard."

"It's exactly as you heard. I drank the vampire's blood."

She grabbed his arm and dug her fingernails into his sleeve. "Cedric, do you realize how serious this is? You drank his blood! What the fuck were you thinking? Dumbledore is right. That curse is going to force the change on you. You need to tell Siobhan about this now. I'm sure she'll understand why we have to kill the vampire as soon as possible then. And what about Hermione?"

"I know you mean well, Jessica, but kindly mind your own bloody business." Harry tore his arm out of her grip.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, and she reached for the wand in her pocket. "I should hex you silly for pulling shit like this. Hell, I should beat you with my bare hands. I don't even want to know what the fuck you could have possibly been thinking when you drank his blood. It's a fucking disease and you have to cure it as soon as possible, before it's too late."

"I'll be fine. I may have drank Abraham's blood, but he hasn't drank any of mine. I need to die first to become a vampire. I know what I'm doing. Don't worry about it, Jessica." He pulled away and started toward his rooms.

"No, you don't!" she rushed in front of him and her hands shook as she held her wand level with his face. "If you did, you wouldn't have drank his blood in the first place. You are going to listen to what I have to say. Do you understand why diseases like lycanthropies and vampirism haven't been cured yet? The curses are like viruses. They slip past your body and your magic's defense and change you on the cellular level. You might feel fine now, but you're going to feel the symptoms of the curse soon enough. You're going to start craving for blood. It'll become your one all-encompassing goal, and you're going to forsake everything else for it- food, water, sleep…

"You may be a wizard, but how long do you think the human body can sustain itself without all that? You'd be dead within the week. Once you're dead, the last of your body and your magic's resistance against the curse is gone. The curse will multiply just like a virus. You know how a virus works right? Viruses attach to your cells and break down the cellular membrane, so it can inject its own RNA into your cells. By doing so, it changes the structure and the function of your cells. Then your cells divide with that alien RNA in its nucleus. The curse will rewrite your DNA and spread like a cancer. The only way to fight it is early detection, just like cancer. You have to stomp it out before it becomes too widespread."

"That's very informative, but I'm a wizard. While a curse may be like a virus, they're completely different things. I'm not a Muggle." He muttered and shrugged off the memory of his sudden episode in the hospital wing not too long ago.

"No, but you're still human, until the curse changes you. This isn't something you can put off, Cedric."

"You should listen to Jessica. She has considerably more knowledge in that area than you do."

Harry wanted to bang his head against the stone wall. The powers that be couldn't even give him a little peace before he died. For an instance, he felt the unmistakable urge to kill Snape, but he wasn't sure if it was because of the curse or just his usual less than amiable feelings toward the older man. He dragged a hand down his tired face, "Stay out of this, Snape."

"I don't think that's possible, Wesley. I'm the one who saved your sorry arse yesterday." Snape stepped out from the shadow of an alcove, not unlike a certain vampire. "You'll have to forgive me for taking an interest in your…well-being then."

"Thank you for your concern, Professor." He sneered, figuring the last thing he needed right then was the older man's sarcasm.

Snape's eyes darkened. His hands were clenched at his sides and twitched in a way that suggested he wanted to do something with them. "I never asked for the lot others gave me, but I have always taken it with the utmost seriousness. I cannot afford to be blamed for certain people. If you can't tell Siobhan by tonight, I will. While I would much rather leave you to your fate, it would be unwise of me." The man turned with a dramatic flare of his robes and went down the corridor in the direction opposite of the Headmaster's.

Jessica laid a gentle hand on his forearm. "There's no other way, Cedric. Please don't make this hard for me or Severus."

"And when has Snape ever made it easy for me?" He snapped, and seven years of torment came to mind.

She stopped and stared deeply into his eyes. He was forced to wonder if Jessica was also a Legilimens- if that was a pre-requisite to being or becoming a Snape. "What happened between the two of you? I've never seen Severus like that. It was almost as if he was afraid to come near you or touch you."

"You mean he was ever touchy-feely to begin with?"

"You know what I mean…"

"You'd never believe it anyway. I'm not sure it's sunk in for me yet."

-x-x-x-

Harry hated this feeling of being held in judgment by others. It was the one experience he could never escape no matter how hard he tried. He never liked being put on display, as the hero or the freak. He was tempted to shield himself, but he knew that was impossible.

The meeting was private though, with only Siobhan to witness his embarrassment. Siobhan looked heart-broken. She looked like she wanted to just wrap her arms around him and hug him. He hoped she didn't try to. He found her pity more suffocating than anything else.

"Why didn't you just say so before?"

"I thought I could handle it on my own. I didn't know what drinking a vampire's blood really entailed. I know now…"

Siobhan lowered herself into an armchair. "Thank the Goddess Shavonne never drank any of his blood."

"How can we know for sure?" he asked. He felt bad for making her doubt and worry, but he needed her permission.

She squeezed her eyes shut and sighed. "She hasn't shown any of the symptoms Jessica described, but you're right. We can't be sure."

"There is one way to be sure…"

"You don't have to be like this, Cedric.," she popped open one eyes, looking her age for the first time since Harry had met her. "I would never leave you to battle the curse on your own if there's a way to cure you. I wish you could have told us earlier, we could have avoided a lot of misunderstanding that way. I guess it can't be helped. I just found out that another body was discovered today, right on the castle's doorsteps. It's not like the other bodies found near the mire though. It's not ravaged. The blood was just drained."

"Shit, that would mean the police's…"

She nodded wearily. "It's only a matter of time before they insist on questioning us. We can't delay this matter any longer," she straightened in her seat and stared straight at him. "I, Siobhan Snape as the current head of the Snape family, authorize the removal of the vampire, Abraham Snape, from Snape Castle by whatever means necessary."

Harry turned to leave but came face to face with Snape instead. The older man stopped short in the doorway of the portrait with one hand clawing into the frame. The world slowed down around them, and he found himself moving toward Snape despite all protests otherwise from his mind.

"Snape," his mouth went dry as he spoke.

Snape nodded but made no move to go around him. He looked at Siobhan over Harry's shoulder. Harry watched in fascination as Snape's lips moved to form words he couldn't hear. He tried not to think about how good those lips had felt against his- the time he was lucid enough to remember what was happening. When the older man looked back down at him, he felt his world center entirely on those black eyes.

"Severus will accompany you if no one else. He is the one most qualified to deal with a vampire after you."

Harry wasn't sure if he or Snape was more aghast with the idea of them going together to the castle again. Siobhan's words, much like Dumbledore's, were not ones to be refused easily.

"Please come back safely, both of you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) As suggested by Snape, all the blood in the human body is needed to complete a whole blood seal. Even blood replenishing potions wouldn't be able to work fast enough to replace the blood loss. If the person, whose blood is being used, doesn't die, it makes the seal less effective.


	14. The Best Beloved

It was around dinner time when they arrived back at the village of Snape. It was also raining. Snape waved his wand and cast a subtle rain-repelling charm over both of them.

"Thanks," Harry muttered.

Snape just grunted in return.

A car passed them at the edge of the village, but they saw nothing and no one else afterwards. Harry held his bundle closer, shielding it from the rain. Snape's pockets jingled with the sound of potions vials clicking against each other. They must have been an odd pair to witness walking down the streets. The village was quiet though, especially on the western end where the castle was and where another body was discovered that morning.

There were still two constables loitering outside the gate. He and Snape exchanged glances. The cops were waiting for the Snapes to return home. Harry gnawed on his lower lips. This could be damaging to Siobhan and the others if the situation wasn't resolved soon.

Snape pointed his wand at the nearest constable, but Harry grabbed the tip of the wand. The older man's expression was thunderous when he glared at Harry. He wondered if it was because he had dared to touch Snape's wand or that he had done something as stupid as grab the tip. Harry just shook his head and pulled out his invisibility cloak. The cloak wasn't meant to fit two adults; they would have to crouch so their feet weren't exposed.

"Fine, Potter," Snape snapped. "But don't ever do that again?"

"What?" Harry asked innocently. "Interrupt you or touch your wand?"

Snape growled and snatched the invisibility cloak from his hands. The older man unfurled the cloak and draped it over their bodies. Harry was hesitant to move any closer to the teacher though. The older man gave him an annoyed look and placed an arm over Harry's shoulders to pull him closer.

Harry tensed against Snape's side. Snape laid a hand on his forearm, and it burned like a hot brand- or the Dark Mark. Harry tried to swallow the lump developing in his throat. He trusted Snape to guide him past the constables because it felt as if his body had shut down completely.

The constables started at the sound of footsteps against wet gravel, but since they couldn't see anyone, they thought it to be just their imagination. Snape laid his hand on the wooden doors, and they swung open just wide enough to let the two of them in.

Harry pulled away from Snape as soon as the doors closed behind them. He swept the invisibility cloak off and wrung it dry of the rain water. The other man waved his wand and summoned the lights. He could see the ward circle shimmer underneath their feet for a second. Reaching out with his senses, Harry couldn't find the taint of Darkness that usually signified Abraham's presence.

"I don't feel him." He muttered.

Snape glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes and summoned up the wards. "You're correct. The vampire is indeed out at the moment."

"What should we do in the meanwhile?"

"Just wait, I suppose." Snape grabbed his arm and dragged him to the left and down a hallway he seldom traveled down before. There was an inconspicuous white door at the end of the hallway that he hadn't noticed before. Snape shoved him into the room first before following.

The first thing Harry noticed was how dimly lit the room was. It took him a few seconds to adjust to the darkness in the room. Unlike the rest of the castle, candles were the only source of lighting here. The air was both moldy and stagnant, filled with a layer of dust that tickled at his nose. He wondered when the last time someone had been in here was.

He looked upon the rows of pews and realized why belatedly. "A church?"

"It's a chapel, Potter. The Snape Castle Chapel, built in the 15th century and the ceiling art was commissioned in the 17th century. It was promptly abandoned following the wave of anti-Muggle sentiments in the 18th century and used as a grain store." Snape stopped just inches behind him.

Harry craned his neck back, eyes taking in the sight of the high arched windows to the vaulted ceiling above. It was little more than peeling plaster now, but he could make out the remnants of what must have once been a piece of art. It was a shame how it looked beyond the ability of even the most painstaking restoration. He spun on his heels to meet Snape's gaze and found the older man standing at the bare altar in the front of the chapel.

"For a man that claims to hate this place, you sure know a lot about it." He dumped his bundle on the pew and leaned against the stand.

A small frown tugged at the edge of Snape's thin lips. "Siobhan rarely allows me to forget the historical significance of this landmark."

"Just landmark? Not home?" He asked.

The older man glared at him. "This has and never will be a home for me. Enough of your asinine questions, Potter. We should prepare ourselves for the vampire's arrival."

He opened the bundle and undid the shrinking spell on the contents. There were silver chains and two light-weight long swords. Raising an eyebrow in question, he asked, "What? No holy water, crosses, stakes, or garlic?"

"You watch too many Muggle cinemas, Potter. If the so-called sanctified power of crosses actually has any effect on vampires, this chapel will suffice. Stakes make for gaudy weapons and are no more effective against vampires than other creatures. It's enough to simply destroy the heart, no matter what the tool. Honestly, Potter, what creature do you know of can survive after being staked in the heart?" when Harry didn't reply, Snape continued. "As for holy water and garlic, we have the next best thing."

The older man set a few vials of potion down on the pew. Harry recognized the rust red potion as the one Snape had used against Abraham before. "Break the vial and cast _Incendio_ on the potion inside, the resulting fumes will smell strongly of garlic."

"I never understood why garlic is considered so effective against vampires." He picked up a vial to examine the contents.

"For a supposed expert on Dark creatures, you know very little about vampires."

"I've never dealt with a vampire until now. Besides, the reality of the vampire is notoriously difficult to separate from the lore."

"Garlic is toxic to a vampire's system because it lowers their blood pressure (1). It's not enough to do any permanent damage like wolfsbane does to werewolves, but it can severely incapacitate them for a bit. The mere smell of garlic is enough to make any vampire feel faint, and if they're particularly susceptible to it, experience a seizure-like episode." Snape explained. "You really should know these things, Potter."

He shrugged. "Isn't it enough to know that it works? Why it works becomes considerably less important when you're fighting for your life."

"As true to your Gryffindor roots as ever, more blind courage than brains. I find it hard to believe I recognize you for who you really are earlier." Snape looked down at him in disgust.

Harry looked up straight into the older man's eyes and said, "On the contrary, you never knew me at all, Snape."

After a long moment of silence, broken only by the sound of the rain beating against the glass, Snape said, "You're correct once again."

He fell silent at the unexpected agreement. Snape was right about one thing. If he had paid more attention to what Hermione said or to the Bloodlust Curse in general, he wouldn't be in the mess he was right now. Shrugging off the strange atmosphere that seemed to plague the both of them in recent days, he asked, "So do you usually carry vampire repelling potions around with you? Or are you really that paranoid of a bastard?"

"No, you dolt, it's a potion to ease coughs." His former teacher snapped.

"Cough medicine? What for?"

Snape looked uneasy as he answered, "You had developed a bit of a troubling cough earlier that morning…"

"Oh…" He was once again rendered almost speechless.

He sat down on the pew and fingered one of the long swords. Had Snape intentionally gone back to the castle to get Harry the cough potion? He would have never guessed the man would go to such lengths for him. Granted, it wasn't very much, but it was still more than he would have ever expected. "Thanks."

Snape grunted.

They lapsed into silence again- the maddeningly quiet sort. It wasn't before long that Harry dug up the first subject that came to mind to fill the emptiness between them. "I meant to ask before, Snape. What happened to the Wolfsbane potion you're experimenting with?"

Snape snorted, "No need to worry about your pet werewolf. I always cast a stasis spell over the potion after I'm done for the day. Assuming we resolve this little vampire issue quickly, the potion will be just fine."

"That's…good…" He replied as he looked away again.

Snape surprised him by addressing him first after another long moment of silence. "How old are you now, Potter?"

"Twenty-four."

"Too young." Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Snape cut him off. "Too young to die just yet. Even I lived past that age."

"I'm not a Slytherin." He smiled weakly.

"Perhaps."

"Do we even have a plan?"

"Tie the blood sucker up and behead him before he has a chance to make anymore mischief."

"I assure you it will not be that simple."

Abraham's voice was immediately followed by the hungry pangs of his curse.

-x-x-x-

Severus tightened his grip on his wand and turned in the direction of the voice, just as Potter pitched over against the pew. He planted his right hand on Potter's shoulder and squeezed. "Pull yourself together," he barked.

Potter's frame shuddered under his hand and the man jumped to his feet. Potter nodded to him and took up the one of the swords. Staring at the sword in his right hand and his wand in his left, Potter asked, "You do know how to use these things, right?"

Putting up the other sword, Severus said, "I've never picked up a sword before this instance."

The other man looked up at him with what could be described as abject horror. Severus ignored the look and flicked his wand from the silver chains lying on the pew to the vampire. " _Adstringo_."

The vampire snarled and dodged the chains. The chains crashed into the chapel doors, chipping the faded paint and wood. Potter leaped over the pews- the rotten wood of the pew cracking under the pressure of his weight- with both his sword and wand in hand, and swung the blade at the vampire. Abraham proved to be faster than both the movements of a fit wizard and magic.

Severus picked up one of the potion vials and threw it at Abraham's feet, " _Incendio_."

The vampire wheeled to the right to avoid the fumes and crashed into another row of pews. Potter followed and raised his sword to strike again. While the younger man didn't appear to be anymore adept with a sword, he moved with a fluidity of one who was used to physical altercations.

Abraham was faster though. Gifted with inherent superhuman strength and inspired by a relentless desire for vengeance, he was not going to be a creature easy to defeat. Abraham lunged forward and grabbed Potter's waist, pulling the boy down to the floor.

Potter went shock still in the vampire's arms, his eyes rolling back into his head.

"Potter!" Severus snapped.

The vampire bared his fangs and tightened his embrace. "He's mine, Snape. I have already staked my claim."

"You don't own Harry Potter anymore than I can," he laughed, and it really shouldn't have been a laughing matter. "All that rubbish about blood and kin, you should be the first to see how meaningless it is."

Abraham moved one hand over Potter's heart. "It matter not. He will forfeit all to me and you will lose."

"You're pathetic, vampire. I have better things to do than to compete with you over trivial matters."

"Then you would forfeit Harry to me?"

Severus narrowed his eyes. "I can do anything but that."

"Why?"

"Loathe him as I might, the boy has always been my responsibility."

"Just a responsibility?" the vampire's eyebrow vanished into his dark hairline. "I find that hard to believe." He glanced down at Potter seated in his lap and ran a hand through the boy's hair.

"Potter, I'm warning you now. If you try anything as remotely strange as you did last time, I will make you pay dearly this time." Severus snapped.

The vampire laughed. "Didn't you enjoy the kiss Harry gave you last time? Silly boy," he scowled. "You shouldn't give so freely of yourself, especially in front of your Sire."

"Let go of the boy now, vampire."

Abraham ignored him and continued to address Potter tenderly. He placed one hand over the boy's sword hand and pried the fingers from the weapon. The sword clattered to the floor, and Potter's wand followed suit. Watching them both, Severus wondered how the fact Abraham was a vampire had escaped Potter's notice for so long. The monster cast no shadow and of all the magical creatures in the world, only vampires cast no shadow.

Severus gritted his teeth and stepped toward them. "You forced me to this, Potter." Flicking his wand toward the vials sitting on the pew, he levitated one of the potions into the air.

"Don't even think about it," the vampire said haughtily. "Harry's already halfway through the change. How do you think that potion of yours is going to affect him?"

He hesitated. He had no idea how far the Bloodlust Curse was in changing Potter, but the vampire would. It would be foolish to trust anything the vampire said too. Looking down at Potter, Severus made his mind to force the boy to come to his senses one way or another.

Just as his wand arm recoiled to launch the vial, he caught sight of one of Potter's hands resting against the floor. The fingers tapped up and down silently but steadily. When he looked into Potter's gray eyes, he found they were incredibly lucid. The younger man gave the slightest nod, careful not to draw the vampire's attention.

Severus' wand hand fell limply to his side. The vampire chuckled.

"Harry, do you smell it? His blood? His life? Tempting, isn't it?"

Instead, Potter turned in the vampire's embrace and threaded his arms around Abraham's neck. Severus tried to tell himself his heart had not constricted at the very sight. His muscles were tensed, filled with the urge to rip Potter away from the monster.

The vampire gave a sudden cry of outrage and pushed the man back. Potter's dagger missed Abraham's heart by mere inches and was lodged into the vampire's sternum instead. Potter quickly picked up his wand and sword before racing to Severus' side.

" _Accio_ dagger."

Potter's dagger flew out of the vampire's chest and into his hand with a resounding smack. For a second, Severus almost thought it had met the younger man's hand blade first. Potter pointed his wand at the vampire again and hissed, " _Crudus_."

Blood poured even more profusely from the wound in Abraham's chest. Soon every pore of the vampire's body bled and oozed with blood. The blood that fell from Abraham's tear ducts were like crimson tears.

Severus flicked his wrist and launched the bottle at the vampire's feet. " _Incendio_."

There was no way for the vampire to escape the garlic fumes now. Abraham had lost too much blood to function properly. Potter wheeled back suddenly, his face turning slightly green. Remembering what Abraham had said before, he grabbed Potter's arm and pulled the man away from the smoke. He brought one arm around Potter and raised it to shield the other man's nose with the sleeve of his robe.

"Thanks." Potter muttered against his arm and pointed to the silver chains on the floor near the chapel door. " _Adstringo Abraham_."

The telltale scent of burnt and rotten flesh filled the air and Potter turned an even more alarming shade of green. Severus waved his wand to quickly dispel the last of the smoke and some of the rotten smell. He lowered his other hand from Potter's face, noting how Potter shivered as his sleeve brushed over the younger man's cheek. Shoving those superfluous thoughts to the back of his mind, Severus stepped forward for the final confrontation against the monster.

The creature looked nothing like it had just moments ago. Gone with the blood Abraham had so painstakingly collected was the youth he hoarded as well. The smooth black hair became a ratty white- not different from the head of a raggedy mop. The vampire's skin was like leather, wrinkled and full of creases. Where the chains bound the monster, the clothing was burned, and the flesh was seared and blackened.

They glared at each other for some time, with just the sound of rain and thunder filling the empty space. Severus raised his wand, ready to cast his final spell and rid the world of this creature. Desperation began to visibly tinge the white of Abraham's eyes, his body shivering from the cold that had not left him since death- or maybe it was fear?

It was disgusting. This monster was no better than a parasite to be eliminated- and what a pathetic creature it was. Even the Dark Lord had not been this cowardly in his final hour.

"It's no use." He said quietly as the vampire struggled more obviously against his binds.

Potter stepped wordlessly in front of him, and some dim hope flickered in Abraham's eyes.

"We can bring England to its knee." Somehow the vampire's voice retained its seductive qualities.

Potter shook his head. "No, we can't. Because there are people-" he glanced at Severus out of the corner of his eyes. "I trust Snape to kill me before I can do anything like that. I…trust him to do at least that…"

"Sweet, sweet Harry." The vampire cooed.

Severus' muscle tensed in preparation to finish off the vampire should Potter's resolve fail.

"Don't," the man- always human and nothing else- said coldly. "I know that what I feel for you is not real. It's all artificial. It's nothing but emotional feedback caused by the physical proximity of our curses. I wonder if what you think you feel for me is anymore real…"

"And you think what you feel for Severus here is real?"

"I don't know," Potter shrugged. "But I'll have time to figure that out later. You're out of time though."

"Why?" snarled the vampire. "I could have given you everything."

Potter's eyes darkened. "Yes, everything but free will."

Abraham bared his teeth. "It's not too late, Harry. There's enough blood for the both of us yet in Severus."

"That's not what I need. It was never life, never blood. What I need is to be free of creatures like you and Voldemort," Potter said quietly. "He offered me the other side too. I won't take your offer anymore than I did his."

Hellfire- anger and indignation finally surfacing- burned in the vampire's eyes. "Then you'll make the same mistake twice. Voldemort left you with the Lifelust Curse and I will leave you with the Bloodlust Curse."

"Perhaps, but you're also wrong. If you die, the Bloodlust Curse will end as well. I do know at least that much."

Potter drew back his arm and swung with all his might. A sickening crunch echoed through the chapel as the blade of his sword sliced though the leather-like hide and the spinal column. Abraham's head flew to the left, landing a few feet away from the decapitated corpse.

It was silent once again, save the sound of the rain and Potter's labored breath. They stared at the dried husk that was once a vampire, blood pooling and flowing into the crevices between the stone pavements. Severus wondered if it was going to leave a stain.

Potter, a mess of blood and unpleasant smells not originating from him, stumbled back and collapsed on the pew. He had become alarmingly pale, and his chest rose and fell rapidly with harsh breaths. Both his wand and his sword fell to the floor. His hands trembled while the rest of him lied perfectly still against the pew.

"Potter, I'm not dragging your corpse back to Hogwarts."

Severus began to worry when Potter didn't reply. He checked the state of the pew to make sure it wouldn't collapse under their combined weight before sitting down next to the man and placing a hand on his shoulder. He shook Potter but still received no reply. Wondering if they were too late and Potter was already changed, Severus moved him so the younger man was lying completely on the length of the pew. He bent down by Potter's head and placed a hand on his forehead. Potter was still warm, but even dead bodies retained heat for a little while afterwards.

He placed two fingers under Potter's nose and found he was still breathing. That was another good sign.

"Potter," he shook the man's shoulders. "Potter, get up. We have to leave."

Potter continued to lie as still as a corpse, a more disturbing sight for Severus than he was willing to admit.

Passing his wand over Potter's upper torso, Severus muttered, " _Enervate_."

Potter's eyelids twitched and a groan of pain surfaced from his throat. Severus could see the man was struggling to just lift his eyelids. Forgetting himself for a moment, he almost expected to see green eyes focus on the ruined ceiling above, but there was only an unfamiliar gray. He had to help the other man to sit up on the pew.

Potter's head fell forward and his blond bangs covered his eyes. "Merlin, that stung like hell."

"I suppose that means the curse has been successfully broken." Severus stood.

Holding his dirty hands out, Potter stared at them and muttered. "I can't smell you anymore. I can't sense anything…"

He raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Pardon?"

The younger man flushed as he realized how ridiculous he must have sounded. "It was this thing with the Lifelust Curse. I could sense the life essence of other living things. You were sort of like this dark rich cloud of smoke, but I can't feel or smell that anymore."

He studied Potter's open expression. "The Lifelust Curse was originally a derivative of the Bloodlust Curse… Perhaps the Bloodlust Curse subverted the Lifelust Curse to such a point that the Lifelust Curse was incorporated. Thus by breaking the Bloodlust Curse, you've broken the Lifelust Curse too."

"So you mean I'm free of both?" Potter asked hesitantly.

"Perhaps… There's no telling how the curses interacted with each other while you had them."

Potter stared up at him and he did his best to ignore Potter in return. He didn't know what the boy was looking for, but he wasn't going to ask either. It seemed as if Potter was going to speak several times, but he just shut his jaws with an audible click instead.

Without looking at the vampire's remains, Potter gestured in its general direction. "What should we do about that?"

"We'll deal with it later. We should get you back to Poppy for a check-up."

"Geeze, Snape, never knew you actually cared."

"Not as much as you think."

As they were cleaning up their tools, Severus couldn't resist the urge to ask, "Were you ever tempted to take his offer?"

"More than you know…" Potter whispered with hooded eyes.

There was a sudden pounding on the door on the other side of the chapel. It was the other door leading to the outside of the castle.

"Is someone there?"

Potter froze and looked over at Severus.

"Mister Snape? Missus Snape? Is that you?"

He quickly cleaned up the last of their supplies, cast a shrinking spell on the bundle, and pocketed it in his robes. "Let's go, Potter."

"Wait," Potter approached the loathsome corpse and examined it for a few seconds.

"There's no time, Potter. Those Muggle cops will here be any second."

Potter glared at him and turned back to the dried husk. Weaving his wand through the air, he managed to transfigure the husk into the fresh corpse of a large black lupine creature. "There. If they find us with this, you'll be off the hook."

"Find us with that? You're mad, Potter. We need to leave _now_." He marched forward and grabbed Potter's bloodied hand.

The other door fell in and the two constables from before charged into the chapel. Both stopped dead just a feet away from the corpse on the floor.

"What in the bloody blazes is that!" One of the constables screeched at the sight of the still-bleeding corpse.

"Jesus H. Christ, is that the beast?" the other constable simply stared in disbelief. "It's a monster!"

"It was hiding out in here. We found it and had to put it down." Potter didn't miss a beat as he lied.

"The two of you against that thing! You're lucky it didn't eat you two!" cried the first constable.

The second constable nudged the first in the ribs and gestured to Potter and himself.

"Right," the first constable straightened his posture and approached them. "Severus Snape, you and your accomplice are under arrest for suspicious activities related the murder of Neil Thewsey, killed sometime before midnight on June 12, 2004 on the doorsteps of Snape Castle. You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defense if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in Court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. You have the right to speak to an independent solicitor free of charge, have someone told that you have been arrested, and consult the code of practice covering police powers and procedures. You may do any of these things now, but if you do not, you may still do so at any other time whilst detained at the police station (2)."

Severus' wand hand moved to hex both the constables, but Potter grabbed his hand before he could do anything.

"Don't," the brat hissed quietly. "You'll make it worse if you attack them. Neither of us has done anything wrong. Let's just go with them and get this sort out for both you and Siobhan. We'll be fine."

Potter's hand didn't let go of his as they were led out by the two constables.

-x-x-x-

It wasn't until the next day around noon that they were released. Cleared of all suspicions, charges, and curses, Harry felt like a new man walking out of that police station. Siobhan was still inside with a Ministry officer, taking care of the last of the paperwork and erasing the traces of the stranger evidence collected last night.

The pavement and streets were still wet from last night's storm. Water gathered and formed puddles in the dips and cracks of the pavement. Everyone stole glances at the pair of them as they passed. No doubt the villagers had heard about the corpse found at the doorsteps of Snape Castle and maybe the transfigured vampire body too.

Harry held the bundle that was his torn and bloodied robes closer to his chest, and peered over at the man walking by his side. The older man's expression was tight and Harry could almost feel the magic crackling around his being. It was the same expression Hermione wore on her face when they talked of vampire rights. It also didn't bode well for Harry.

"Potter, don't you ever pull something like that again?" Snape snapped when they finally the threshold of the door.

Harry couldn't help but smirk- having counted not even thirty seconds since they were out of public eye. "Which thing would that be?"

"Potter…" Snape growled. "That entire escapade was wholly unnecessary."

"Look, they had reason to suspect you were the murderer until you gave a legitimate alibi. The more you struggled against them, the worse you defense would have become."

Snape waved a hand in a dismissing manner. "I could have simply Obliviated them."

"Those two constables maybe, but there was a warrant out for your arrest. The longer you avoided clearing yourself, the more suspicious you would appear. Do you really think the Ministry was going to help your case if the Muggle police successfully charged you and brought you before a Magistrate's Court?" Harry glared at Snape and damned the man's stubbornness in his head.

Snape drew his lips into a taunt line again. "I can handle myself, Potter. You, on the other hand, have-"

Rolling his eyes, he grabbed Snape's face and pulled it down to his, sealing his lips over the man's. It had none of the urgency of the previous two kisses they shared. It was a simple meeting of two columns of flesh. He maneuvered his face so their noses weren't squashed against each other. Feeling the stubble of Snape's unshaven chin, he wondered if Snape felt the same sensation. Harry looked within himself and felt none of the urges he grown used to for so many years arise. Instead, he found something much different, but not any less heated, that threatened to consume him whole all the same.

Snape didn't hex him immediately when Harry pulled back slightly and he took that to be a very optimistic sign.

"Just checking to make sure I don't have the urge 'to slit your throat and drain your dry'." Harry muttered quietly against the other man's lips, suppressing the urge to lick his lips and maybe Snape's too.

"That had nothing to do with the conversation we were having." Snape deadpanned, but he didn't throw Harry off either.

"That wasn't a conversation, Snape. You were just lecturing me like I was a dunderhead. I just wanted to shut you up." He stepped in closer until his chest was touching Snape's.

"Potter…"

"They both really gone, you know? Both the Lifelust and the Bloodlust Curse."

He felt his mouth dry when Snape's intense gaze focused completely on him. He wondered what it meant when your world seemed to center entirely on one entity- one person. He wondered when Snape's words stopped stinging and riling him. Snape's hands settled on his hips, almost as if they wanted to push Harry away but failed for whatever reason. The older man's face was still cradled in his hands, the stubble itching Harry's palm.

"Congratulations, Potter."

Snape swooped in and planted a firm kiss on Harry's lip. His gasp was muffled under the curtain of Snape's hair. While he was still in shock, the bastard swept away like the giant bat Harry had always known him to be.

-x-x-x-

Severus thought he would have sated his curiosity about Potter after learning his true identity. What greater secret could Potter hide other than his curse and his real identity? He found that to be far from the reality though. There were just as many questions- if not more- about Potter as there were about the enigmatic Cedric Remius Wesley.

He paced back and forth the length of the chapel. In truth, he would also rather be anywhere but here. Siobhan had sent him in to investigate the possibility of restoring the chapel ceilings, but he found himself thinking about Potter instead.

"Severus?"

Jessica lingered in the frame of the chapel door. He knew she was uncomfortable with the fact they had killed the vampire in the chapel of all places.

"What?" He couldn't help but snap.

She walked over to his side and wrapped her arms around herself. "Jesus, this place gives me the creeps."

"I thought you were a person of faith." He drawled.

"Yeah, but that still doesn't change the fact this place is as creepy is hell. And to think you killed the vampire in here… The implications are almost sacrilegious." She shuddered.

"I disagree. I find it very ironic." He smirked.

"You would, wouldn't you?"

"What do you want? Does Siobhan have some other asinine task for me?"

"What? I can't have a nice conversation with my soon-to-be cousin-in-law?"

He turned and glared at her. She was taking lessons from Siobhan. "Spit it out, Jessica."

"Fine," she glared at him in return. "What's up with you and Cedric?"

"I don't know what you're speaking of."

"Don't play dumb with me."

"You will have to elaborate. I don't speak American." He sneered.

Jessica placed her hands on her hips and glared. "I'm talking about how you're always staring at Cedric, yet avoiding him like The Plague with a capital 'p.' And I'm talking about how Cedric looks at you with that apprehensive and fearful expression sometimes. The world isn't blind and soon the rest of them are going to notice too," she paused. "Are you two together or something?"

Severus raised a skeptical eyebrow and something that might have been laughter bubbled in his chest cavity, "It's simply your imagination. You're feeling overwhelmed because your wedding is close. Now you're imagining romantic entangling where there's none to begin with."

The absolute ludicrousness of the idea…

"Snark all you like, but I know I wasn't seeing things when I saw Cedric kiss you last week."

His blood ran cold. "What did you say?"

"You heard what I said, I saw the two of you playing tonsil hockey after you were released by the cops," she glared harder at him. "I don't know what games you're playing with Cedric-"

He cut her off. "What makes you think I'm the one toying with the boy? Why must I automatically be the villain in this scenario? I don't know what you saw, but it was most definitely not what you think."

"I know what I saw. I have perfect 20/20 vision. If you dare hurt-"

He leaned in, his lips curling upwards derisively. "You'll do what, Jessica? Do you think Wesley needs you to protect him? I'll do as I please. You cannot stop me. What do you know anyway? Perhaps Wesley likes to be toyed with? Should I tell you how soft his lips are, and how clumsy and inexperienced his kisses are? All lips and absolutely no finesse. Someone needs to teach the boy how to properly snog. What is between _Cedric_ and myself is just that. It is none of your business."

He turned away and stormed out of the chapel.

"Bastard," she hissed loudly after him. "You goddamn bastard."

-x-x-x-

Toward the first week of July, Jessica's immediate family arrived in England and came to stay at Snape Castle until the wedding. Harry was still as busy as ever after clearing out the castle. Jessica commandeered most of his free time to help with the wedding, and there were days when he found himself making trips from one side of the globe to the other on "errands."

He saw little of Snape except during mealtimes. If Harry didn't know better, he would have thought the man was going out of his way to avoid him. He tried to push whatever had happened between them to the back of his mind. He tried to tell himself that it didn't change the relationship between them- that nothing would ever change.

Yet there were times when they would meet unexpectedly in the halls of Snape Castle. They would both come to a halt as they approached each other. Often times Snape would open his mouth, as if to ask a question or say something, but after thinking better of it, would just shut his mouth and nod to Harry before passing.

It was the most frustrating thing Snape could do.

Jessica and Sinclair were married in a proper wizarding ceremony on the night of July's full moon. Remus was thus unable to attend the ceremony, but he stayed in the castle so Snape could keep track of the new potion's effects- Harry had high hopes for the new potions. They were once again married before a Muggle priest the next day at the Kissing Gate. The ceremony and ensuring reception was for Jessica's extended Muggle family and her Muggle friends.

Halfway through the reception, he slipped out of the Kissing Gate and headed back toward the castle. The wards didn't try and dispel him out when he entered the castle once again. He wasn't going to complain since it made everything easier for him.

He went straight to the room he had been staying in for the last month and a half. Both his trunks were packed but then again, he never unpacked much in the first place. He shrunk his original trunk, pocketed it, and spelled the other trunk, the one he kept at the Department of Mysteries for so many years, to follow him. He turned to grab his broom resting against the other wall but came face to face with Snape instead.

"So eager to leave already," his former professor crossed his arms over his chest. "Are good-byes too common a courtesy for the Boy-Who-Lived?"

Harry sighed. "I thought we've gone over that part already, Professor. Jessica and Sinclair are going to be off on their honeymoon right after this?"

Snape nodded.

"I'm glad I got to congratulate them before they left."

Harry moved past the man to pick up his broom. He nearly dropped his Firebolt when Snape spoke again.

"What are you going to do now, Potter? The curses doe appear to have been lifted for all intents and purposes."

"I still have a few jobs to finish. It'd be wrong to leave them just hanging like that when I've already agreed."

"It almost sounds as if you're ready to stop running away." Snape smirked.

He laughed softly. "I didn't realize it before but I stopped running the day I was confronted with you and stayed nonetheless. I'm done running."

"Miss Granger would be glad to see you again as the real you."

"I know. I guess…I'll write. Siobhan insisted anyway. Looks like you'll be hearing from me, Professor."

Snape snorted. "So you're going to continue lying to my family?"

"For now, Cedric Remius Wesley still has some business to finish before he can settle down."

"Then I shan't see you again then, Mister Wesley." The older man stuck one hand forward.

Harry stared at the offered hand for a few long moments. He didn't really understand at first, that Snape was capable of such a common gesture and before the man's words truly registered in his mind. _Mister Wesley._ He grasped the hand firmly and shook it. "No, you won't," he felt a real smile creep across his lips.

Snape dropped his hand abruptly and sneered in disgust. "Do spare me that idiotic Gryffindor grin. It's sickening."

Harry shook his head. "Good-bye then, Professor." He walked toward the door but stopped and turned. He marched back to Snape and grabbed one of the man's hands.

"What are you doing now, Wesley?"

"Potter," He corrected automatically. It felt good to be able to use his real name again.

"Right," Snape muttered quietly.

Harry furrowed his brow together and moved the hand to his chest. He laid Snape's open palm over the area of his heart and held it still to make sure the teacher felt the beating of the heart. Trailing the hand down until it was resting on his solar plexus, he looked up to find Snape stared at him those intense black eyes.

"It's still there, you know?" he whispered and tightened his grip on Snape's hand. "Even though the curses have been lifted, it still sits there coiled up at the bottom of my stomach. It's nothing like what I felt for Abraham, it's not superficial at all."

"You don't know what you're saying Potter," somehow, Snape's voice sounded rougher than usual to Harry. The older man's hand curled slightly as if to fist his shirt and flesh before flattening again. "We'll talk again when you can truly prove that the curses have been lifted."

Harry shuddered as he was overcome with the urge to kiss Snape again. He had the feeling Snape wouldn't try to stop him or hurt him for doing that, but he refused to give into the urge- no matter how gratifying he was sure it would feel. No, he would wait until next time.

There would definitely be a next time…

His hand fell away from Snape's, but the other man's hand seemed to linger for a second longer than necessary before pulling away. He turned once more on his heels, but he didn't look back this time as he exited.

_The End?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) That's not actually true, at least from what I've read. I haven't found a very good reason why garlic has traditionally been thought to be an effective repellent against vampires. Garlic has been found to help with high blood pressure so I just took that fact and ran with it.
> 
> (2) In the US, a person is read their Miranda rights upon arrest. The British have something very similar, but it is not exactly the same as the Miranda right.


	15. Epilogue: The Place We Come to Rest

Summer ended and life's pace picked up again for the Snape family. Sinclair and Jessica returned from their extended honeymoon the week that Severus was preparing to return to Hogwarts. Shavonne was getting ready to begin her apprenticeship in London and Siobhan's shop was as busy as ever, although business had slowed a bit after the Midsummer Ball. After sitting down to the last breakfast they would have together as a family until the next holidays, an owl suddenly swooped in through the open window and dropped a letter onto their table. It flew across the room and settled on the mantle over the fireplace, turning its attention to preening its feathers.

Before Severus could do anything else, Shavonne snatched up the envelope and exclaimed, "It's from Cedric."

He sat back and scowled unpleasantly while nursing his cup of coffee. "What a pleasant way to start the morning." He drawled.

Jessica shot him a glare before urging her new sister-in-law, "Read it."

"To the Snape family, including the Professor," Shavonne paused for a second and giggled. "I hope you're all well and I imagine you must be busy now that the summer's over. My last two jobs since leaving England took me to Italy and then Russia. Florence was beautiful and Moscow was cold, but I guess that goes without saying."

"What inane commentaries." Severus grumbled under his breath. Potter had never been succinct and it didn't appear as if he would ever learn how to be either.

"Oh, hush," Siobhan scowled lightly.

"I'm actually back in England now and I'm staying with my cousin right now. I don't know what possessed me to go back and visit them. It turns out that my uncle has passed away from a heart attack two years ago and my aunt has since moved out of the house. I was so surprised to learn my cousin had married a witch and they have a healthy one-year-old baby boy. They've been very hospitable so far and have even asked me to be the godfather. I'm going to stay here for a while and take some time for myself. Soon, I won't have much of that left. I hope to see you all soon. With the best of wishes, Cedric."

"Well, that's good to hear."

"Hopefully, he'll visit soon."

Siobhan laughed at the enthusiasm of her children. She turned and winked at Severus, "It's almost like Cedric's one of the family."

Severus almost spat out the sip of coffee he had just taken. "You must be jesting!"

She simply laughed and turned back to her children. He looked back into his murky beverage and couldn't help but think certain parts had been written especially to him.

-x-x-x-

When Severus went to pick up his supplies from the apothecary in Diagon Alley the next day, he stopped by Flourish & Blott's to buy a copy of Bram Stoker's _Dracula_. He wasn't sure what prompted him to make the purchase.

It took him less than a week to finish the novel. He found the prose and the themes to be trite, sensational, and completely and utterly Victorian. The Count Dracula could hardly be considered a worthy literary villain. With that done, he retreated quickly back into the more practical world of nonfiction.

But Severus still didn't understand why Abraham would allude to Potter as Mina Harker, the younger man was nowhere as pure or even as moral as the epitome of conservative male fantasy. He thought of the lightning bolt-shaped scar that evil had craved into Potter's forehead so soon after birth, and he was sure it still remained to this day.

Unlike Mina Harker, he did not think the scars of Potter's taint would ever fade (1).

-x-x-x-

Life quickly fell back into its normal routine when Severus returned to Hogwarts. Day in an day out, he tried to fill the heads of impossible children with some semblance of knowledge, assigned detentions, took arbitrary points from Gryffindors, made potions, verbally taunted Minerva, suppressed the urge to murder Albus at least twice a week, and gave out some more detentions. There was also his nosy family calling him over the Floo network at various times.

On some mornings at breakfast in the Great Hall, the family owl would drop one of Potter's regular letters, forwarded to him by either Siobhan or Sinclair. Potter wrote about his new godson, visiting old friends who had passed away tragically, and possible career plans and alternatives for the future. Siobhan, Sinclair, Jessica, and Shavonne each took their turns in writing back to Potter, and each letter forwarded to Severus came with a plead for Severus to write back for once. He returned the letter after reading it and refused every time.

That was how the two months passed until just two days after All Hallow's Eve, the morning edition of the _Daily Prophet_ came out with its most shocking headline since the one declaring the return of the Dark Lord Voldemort. Harry Potter had been spotted in Diagon Alley and had been hauled off by Aurors to the Ministry of Magic, where they finally determined this was no impostor. The entire Great Hall had never seen such cacophony of noise before, and both Albus and Minerva were absent at breakfast.

Severus ignored the noise, his gossiping colleagues, and the _Daily Prophet_. Instead, he read Potter's latest letter about his visit with an old friend paralyzed in the war that had been forwarded to him that same morning.

Hogwarts had never seen as much chaos as that November 2nd. The students couldn't concentrate on their schoolwork and the teachers found it impossible to keep their students attention, no matter how many house points they took. It was impossible to avoid the rumors and speculations since it was all any of the students would talk about. The students of Hogwarts diverted all energy to devising the most ingenious and creative theories- if not ridiculous as well- about where Harry Potter had been for the last six years and what he had been doing.

Snape was even more irritable and unreasonable than usual. Everyone in Hogwarts was assured in the knowledge that it was because of Harry Potter's return, since _everyone_ knew about the mutual and legendary hate shared between the two men. The Potions Professor must have been so agitated by the situation that he went so far as to take points from his own House. Imagine that!

Former Potions Substitute Professor Granger turned up at lunch demanding to see Headmaster Dumbledore, but the Headmaster and his Deputy were still nowhere to be found by then. Professor Granger refused to leave until she did and ended up substituting for Professor McGonagall's afternoon classes.

Professor Malfoy was also annoyed with the fuss over the Boy-Who-Lived. He was constantly seen mumbling obscenities toward Harry Potter under his breath that day and even going so far as to publicly insult the hero in one of his classes. However, those who knew Professor Malfoy and most of the Slytherins didn't see any real loathing behind the veil of harsh words.

Owls were seen all over the school grounds, both in and on route to delivery. The school owls never got any rest that day between delivering letters after letters. Two duels broke out between fractions of the Gryffindor and Slytherin Houses over Professor Snape's honor of all things. Apparently, the reappearance of Harry Potter and Snape's subsequent reaction revived old suspicions and accusations. Twelve people were hospitalized in the hospital wing by dinner that evening.

However, everything paled in comparison to what happened at dinner. About ten minutes to seven, the first of the professors, with Snape among them, and the students arrived at Great Hall. They were all collectively stunned to find Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall to his right as usual, and Harry Potter in Snape's usual seat to the left of the headmaster. The professors were all crowded by the teacher's entrance to the side and the students were frozen in the center of the Great Hall in-between the House Tables.

Professor Granger was the first to react as she raced toward the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry Potter stood and caught her in a tight embrace. The students continued to watch in stunned silence as Professor Granger began crying softly in Harry Potter's arms. With Snape in the lead, the rest of the teachers standing in the doorway moved toward the Head Table as well.

More students flooded into the Great Hall and froze when they saw Professor Snape loom over Harry Potter and Professor Granger. Everyone, even the headmaster appeared the slightest bit anxious, in the Hall held their breaths and there remained only an overwhelming silence trembling on the edge.

"You're in my seat, Potter." Snape's words were heard clearly over Professor Granger's quiet sob.

"You know me, Professor. Since I appear to be the guest of honor for tonight, do you mind lending me this place of honor for one night?" Harry Potter said with a slight smirk.

The two men stared at each other long and hard as Professor Granger began to recompose herself.

Snape was the first to look away with an expression of disgust. "You would do as you wish anyway, Potter."

And a few gasped as Snape sat down in the empty seat to Harry Potter's left. He even drew a handkerchief from somewhere and offered it to Professor Granger. The students stared openly with gaping jaws. Snape noticed this and glared at them before barking, "Well, sit down already, unless you're looking for detention."

This sent all the students scrambling for their respective House Tables while Harry Potter's chuckles rumbled through the Great Hall and confused looks were shared between everyone. The Great Hall was filled in record time as the news of Harry Potter's arrival spread through the school at a speed that broke the sound barrier. The cheering for Harry Potter was deafening when Headmaster Dumbledore re-introduced the Man-Who-Lived.

Throughout the meal, all eyes were on Harry Potter and also Professor Snape by association. No one understood why Snape had chosen to sit next to Harry Potter or why Harry Potter had not protested the arrangement at all. They wouldn't even spare each other a glance, much less exchange even one word. Harry Potter made conversation with the headmaster and answered questions passed to him down the length of the Head Table.

Snape ignored Harry Potter and Harry Potter ignored Snape in return. Many a students were disappointed that night and even more Galleons were lost in the betting pool.

When Snape rose from the table just before dessert was served, Harry Potter grabbed one of Snape's sleeves. All sound died in the Great Hall at that sight and Snape glared furiously at Harry Potter. Despite the silence, only those closest to the Head Table heard the short conversation that ensued.

"Yes, Mister Potter?"

Harry Potter took a sip from his goblet first, before asking in a nonchalant manner. "Maybe you could fill me in on what I've missed."

Snape stared at Harry Potter some more before saying, "Do as you wish."

Harry Potter released Snape's sleeve and turned to his dessert as the Potions Professor swept out of the Great Hall like an oversized bat. There would be all the more scandalous gossip that night and unseemly remarks made in the privacy of the common rooms and the dormitories.

-x-x-x-

Harry had almost forgotten how damp, dark, wet-smelling the corridors of the Slytherin dungeon were. He had left halfway through dessert so he could avoid the after-dinner crowd. He didn't think Severus wanted the whole school to know the Man-Who-Lived was visiting him so late at night. However, the word "secret" didn't exist in the standard Hogwarts vocabulary and everyone at Hogwarts would know about it halfway through the breakfast bangers.

He stopped in front of the potions' classroom where he had spent seven years. The door was locked and refused to open. He thought better than to try and force it open, and he approached the door to Snape's office adjacent to the classroom instead.

He raised his hand to knock.

"Come in."

The door swung open under his fist.

Harry hesitated for a second before stepping into the office. They just stared at each other for about the first minute or so. Severus was seated behind the desk, still dressed as if he had just come from teaching a class. He looked as Harry had last seen him since he left in the middle of July. That was a strangely comforting thought for Harry.

Though Harry reverted to his true appearance, he had changed, but the metamorphosis was subtle. He acquired a nice tan from the weeks he spent in Florence and the week he toured Greece afterwards. A bit of that Darkness had abated with the breaking of the Lifelust and the Bloodlust curses, and the weeks spent in the sun appeared to help even more. He no longer wore the colored contacts and his eyes were once again the brilliant green Severus had unconsciously wanted to see again.

"I see you managed to escape your fan club." Severus drawled in an almost cautious manner.

Harry smirked. "Well, you know me."

"Indeed…"

After a few more moments of silence, Harry approached the desk carefully. His footsteps resounded painfully loud, even though there was no audible echo. He placed his hands carefully on the tabletop, as if it would crumble under his touch. Transferring his weight to the desk, he leaned forward slightly and smiled in a way that was awkward, shy, and endearing all at once.

"So how have Siobhan, Jessica, Sinclair, and Shavonne been?" Harry asked.

"Why don't you ask them yourself? You should know. They're the ones writing to you every week." Severus snorted.

"I noticed I haven't received any letters from you."

"I have no reason to write you, Potter."

"I know," Harry bowed his head slightly, but Severus could still see the bright green eyes he had been searching for unconsciously since he found out Cedric was really Harry. "But I still missed you though."

For a moment, Severus' breath was caught in his throat. "Why ever?"

"I just did," Harry shrugged. "I've grown used to you…"

"One can grow used to fungus given time."

"It's a good thing you don't kiss like fungus then."

"You can't possibly mean to…" Severus trailed off.

The idea was beyond preposterous.

Harry's face turned red at the very suggestion. "No! I just mean… If this has taught us anything, it's we don't know nearly as much about each other as we previously thought."

"Is this a proposition of some sort?"

"To be friends." Harry rushed to reply.

Severus looked up fully into Harry's face and they both knew something had been irrevocably changed in that instance.

"May I offer you a drink, Potter?"

"I would like that, Professor. One question though, have you've always kept your liquor in your office?"

"It's in my quarters, you dolt."

Severus didn't seem to mean it in an affectionate way, but Harry thought it was a good enough start.

_The End For Now_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Mina Harker received a burn on her forehead when a communal wafer was pressed to her forehead to bless her after drinking Dracula's blood. The burn, a symbol of her contamination, healed completely after Dracula's defeat. For those of you that have seen/read League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, Mina Harker never turned in the original source novel.


End file.
